Claymore: New Era
by Revan5
Summary: Phantom Miria and her comrades have triumphed over the Organization, but victory has brought with it unexpected consequences.  2 years on, Miria's true destiny begins as she struggles to find a new purpose in a greatly expanded Claymore universe.
1. Prologue

**Claymore: New Era**

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**Foreword from the Author**

Have you ever wondered what might be different if Miria had not rushed into the Organization on her own? This book explores that "what if" to the fullest, for things do not go quite like how you'd think. This was my first effort at writing a fanfic, but despite that, it is a very entertaining read. It starts a little slow but ramps up over time to make things believable. I intended this book as a Seinen-like interpretation of Claymore, with more in-depth character development, a more detailed universe, and a more realistic amount of technology for the era (see bows and arrows). The story features more realistic (if not entirely realistic) physics, which acts to constrain a few of Yagi's more unbelievable story elements. The one I'm primarily thinking of is that of claymores standing in mid-air on invisible strands of hair. Aside from requiring a tremendous suspension of disbelief that hair strands could hold up 50 kilo+ claymores, there are also the enormous impracticality of running around during a battle attaching hair to things and hoping it'll hold. So I hope you'll pardon me if I don't follow Yagi's lead on that and keep my claymores' feet firmly planted on the ground when not jumping all around. More realistic physics constrains claymore abilities to a modest degree in most circumstances, which combined with my upgrading of human warfare technology and organization (arrows + massed armies) means more vulnerabilities for claymores.

Someone commented to me that this is a terrible thing to do to claymores, as they are superhuman warriors that ought not be vulnerable to any human. I beg to differ, because one can still be superhuman and be vulnerable. If superhuman warriors faced no risk in battle, would we really bother reading the story? Even Superman had to be given a weakness because if he had none, the story would bore us. In Claymore, Yagi explicitly challenges this cliche of the invulnerable hero with the death of Teresa. In the era after the Organization's fall, the "invincibility" of claymores on the battlefield against human opponents will be tested by new tactics and arms that are realistic to the late medieval period. Claymores are just as lethal as ever, but it wouldn't be realistic to expect their opponents to accept this battlefield dominance. I explore other issues as well, like claymores' love lives. Let's face it, does anyone honestly expect claymores to remain chaste warriors utterly uninterested in men? I can't say I do. The scarring I portray in this book was portrayed BEFORE Yagi showed how claymores are scarred. I only had their bellies be blackened and horribly scarred and sewn shut, whereas Yagi had a more grisly answer. You may prefer my version to his, as judicious use of clothing can thus enable claymores to partake in more than a few "illicit" behaviors without disgusting their partners. I wanted to explore Claymore as if it were a living, breathing world full of intrigue, politics, economics, religion and characters' social lives. I hope my attempt is as interesting to you as it was for me to write.

If you're a fan of the medieval era like I am, I highly recommend Terry Jones' "Medieval Lives", which provides an often comic and entertaining look at the medieval age. It was also a great tool in understanding the age of kings and castles. You have my thanks for checking out my story. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it! Reviews are appreciated.

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**Prologue**

**Excerpt from "Phantom Miria: A Biography"**

By A. Comnenus

"Phantom Miria is perhaps the most misunderstood individual in the history of the isle of Toulouse. She has come to be regarded in the simplistic mold of a saintly heroine rescuing the people from tyranny. Unfortunately those historians who portray Miria this way are doing history a horrible disservice. The real Phantom Miria suffered bouts of depression, was emotionally damaged underneath her stoic facade, ambitious, at one time insulted as being a "naive idealist" by a close friend, was sometimes stubborn beyond reason, and had a lurid personal life. By all measures, Phantom Miria was less a "saintly heroine" than an idealistic, ambitious woman of superhuman strength with inner emotional mazes that might take years to unravel.

I do not dispute that Miria can be regarded as a hero of the people of Toulouse; she always will be. This was the woman, after all, who, along with her comrades, managed to expose and annihilate the wicked regime of the Organization. The problem with Miria's representation in history is that she is often spoken of as an ideal. Indeed, depending on who you talk to, her characteristics can range from being smart, pretty, ambitious, modest, honest, idealistic, pragmatic, and so on. People have covered up Miria's true nature so much you'll find Phantom Miria described as everything from hard-line authoritarian to a libertarian. She has become a leader whose image fits her observers' beliefs, but underneath all the "deification" of Miria one can still discover her true, very unique nature.

"Phantom" Miria, as she is popularly called, was a leader who was clearly a product of her times. Those times did not begin when she was born however, as many historians erroneously presume. These times began some 110 years before Miria and her comrades brought the Organization's leader to Rabona for his trial and execution. I am speaking of the era in which the Global War began of course. A few short years before the Global War was unleashed, world politics were shifting at a breakneck pace. Alliances of empires, republics, kingdoms and grand duchies were being formed across the world in response to the depredations of several massive empires. When the empires began turning on one another, as often happened when they conquered all buffer states, a chain-gang effect ripped through world politics. In response to this escalating violence worldwide, the Alliance of Nations was founded by fifteen countries for mutual protection and conquest; with five great powers and four middle powers forming the core of its strength.

In reaction to this their remaining opponents formed the Grand Alliance, an alliance of four great powers and four middle powers. Between the two massive alliances, they held over ninety percent of the world's territory, military strength, and population. On the face of it, the Alliance of Nations held the advantage in almost all areas: population, collective military strength, territory, and even naval supremacy. The Grand Alliance was not led by fools however; they compensated by attracting the support of the non-human draconic tribe to their side.

Known as the Dragons' Descendants, or more derisively, the Dragonkin, they upended the world balance of power. It was not hard to see why: members of the draconic tribe were as large as a sizable house, stood three to four stories tall, and had incredible strength, intelligence, and lethal instincts, with stone-like skin nearly impossible to penetrate with ordinary weapons. Their entry into the war saw the Grand Alliance's territory expand and the Alliance of Nations nearly forced to surrender. Had they been forced to do so, the world today would never have known the name of "Phantom" Miria. She would have just been an average if pretty woman on the island of Toulouse as a new global order reigned on the main continent. It was the Alliance of Nation's vigorous response to counter the Descendants of Dragons' innate advantages that would give rise to Phantom Miria and her legacy.

The Alliance of Nations' research department, known to history only as "the Organization", pushed extra-normal research as a way to counteract the massive advantages the Dragonkin gave the Grand Alliance. The Organization's first creation was the monstrous, shape-shifting human predator, the Yoma. However, against the draconic tribe, Yoma were a disaster. They were almost useless against Dragonkin in the field and hard to direct into battle. Worse still, their innate hunger for human innards spread fear into the Alliance of Nations' own troops when they satisfied their appetites. The war might have been lost in the first few years had the Organization not come upon the idea of experimenting with Yoma flesh implanted into humans.

The result was the claymore warrior, a superhuman soldier who was half-human and half-Yoma and possessed characteristics of both species. These super-soldiers retained their human mind and intelligence, but their appetites shriveled, their hair bleached of color, their bellies scarred over, their eyes turned eerie silver, and their physical abilities became superhuman. The Alliance of Nations sent the first batch of these warriors against an isolated group of 'Dragonkin'.

These individuals far exceeded the expectations of their masters when they released their Yoma energy flowing through their hybrid blood. All of the subjects were male, and as their yokis surged, they passed the point known as "awakening". Their bodies, using too much Yoma energy to retain their human bodies and minds, irreversibly changed. They morphed into monsters, many of which were capable of fighting on par with Dragonkin. The first expedition of males thus transformed wiped out half a dozen draconic tribe members before dying.

The Alliance of Nations' high command was ecstatic, and plunged enormous resources into creating more such one-way monsters. In doing so they stalemated the war enough to survive and regroup. The awakened beings however were far from ideal monsters; they were independent creatures, and if the hybrid men awakened in camp or came back from their experiences, they often wiped out their own armies. Knowing they needed research to perfect their new weapons, the Organization was transplanted onto the island of Toulouse. There it was secure from Grand Alliance aggression thanks to the Alliance of Nations' naval supremacy and the island's little-known location. This modest island, separated from the massive continent far beyond, was to be where Phantom Miria's predecessors first got their start.

For almost a hundred years the Organization pushed research into creating controllable awakened beings, convinced these were the solution to winning the war. They stopped using males as research subjects, turning to females instead, who were far less likely to awaken and thus more useful subordinates. To gain the female soldiers' willing cooperation, they were led to believe the Yoma unleashed upon the island by their own superiors was in fact an uncontrollable scourge. It was a masterful deception, and one the Organization completed by telling its female soldiers that they were the only thing between humanity's extinction.

It was into this dark, chaotic era that a baby girl named Miria de Beauharnais was born some 28 years before the Organization's downfall. Born into a wealthy merchant family, we know from Miria's diary entries that she was the youngest of twelve children, with some seven brothers and four sisters. What little we know of her early years is that she was generally happy and found her vain older sister Victoire aggravating. Miria was given the finest education imaginable, studying at a prestigious all-girls religious school, and her generally excellent physical and mental potential we now know caught the eye of Organization handlers passing through.

Shortly after her tenth birthday, they arranged for the deaths of Miria's entire family via a Yoma attack. The Organization records indicate that they were initially foiled in their determination to acquire her. Miria was taken in by a foster family, but her extreme and understandable depression led her down a dangerous path. Although Miria never admits this in her diary in later years, it seems that the trauma might have been too much to bear. There is substantial evidence that Miria may have lost the will to live on. She had, after all, found her entire family dead or dying, which is an emotional trauma few can imagine most ten-year-old girls enduring. Her foster family, having held off Organization pressure for several months, suddenly caved in.

The Organization's handlers seemed perplexed at the sudden change in attitude. The agent in charge noted that the family had "a look of desperation about them." Miria, it seemed, had somehow become more trouble than they could handle. A hint of what might have happened is noted by "extreme depression" which Miria exhibited. Had she attempted suicide? We will never know, but many a person in Toulouse must be thankful she never succeeded. What seemed to save Miria from extreme despair at her family's deaths was members of her trainee class, or so Miria hints in her diary. Despite finding a will to live on, the happy, carefree Miria of her childhood years was long gone. As a comrade later remarked of Miria's smile, "You had best enjoy it like a rainbow; they're just as rare".

Three years after being made into a half-Yoma, Miria had impressed her trainers enough to become a full-time, ranked warrior. Given the 25th rank at the mere age of thirteen, Miria's excellent work ethic, intelligence, slow temper, superb raw combat skills and great speed earned her the praise of her handler, a man known simply as Ermita. By age fifteen, Miria had risen to the rank of 17th in the Organization. By all measures, Miria seemed a conventional claymore warrior until one digs deeper. Deep within Ermita's records are his notes of concern that Miria's intelligence was fueling dangerous doubts in her mind about the Organization. These notes however seemed never to have reached his superiors for reasons unknown.

Miria's rise up the ranks continued; by age ninteen she had been promoted into the elite "single-digit" ranks as the Organization's new No. 8. At around this time we know two crucial things happened. The first, and most important, was Miria became the first claymore in recorded history to surpass her yoki limits and keep her human mind. The second event was a new bout of extreme depression hitting Miria. Both events seem connected with her assignment to kill her former friend, the awakened ex-No. 6, Hilda. Although details about what happened during the mission are lost to history, it seems likely Miria played a part in killing the monster that was all that remained of her best friend.

What we do know is that the Organization was not aware Miria was partially-awakened, most likely because the report of the mission had been intercepted by the infamous Grand Alliance spy, Rubel Louvre. Rubel, having intercepted the news of Miria's partial awakening, immediately plotted her downfall, as he was terrified she would be the key to creating a controllable awakened being. However, no matter how badly Rubel wanted to kill off Miria before the Organization discovered her unique condition, her depression that followed the Hilda mission ensured otherwise. Her handler Ermita put her on "action hiatus", Organization keywords for taking a warrior out of active duty. Amongst the most telling remarks were Ermita's own: "keep her away from any black cards. She shows signs of extreme distress and should be considered potentially suicidal."

The "black cards" Ermita referenced were those meant to be used by Organization claymores to prevent their peers from awakening. In order to avoid the chaos that came with a warrior losing their humanity, a system was set up in which warriors would request death via a black card by a warrior of their choosing. The fact that Ermita feared Miria would send a black card prematurely gives us some insight on Miria's troubled character. This Miria, the lonely, depressed genius, is one we never read about before now, but it is a key part of who Miria really was. Far too many historians have fallen into the trap of Miria as the stoic heroine; she was anything but stoic underneath the skin.

Ermita knew from experience that Miria was a social claymore and realized squad-based missions were essential to reversing her depression. After a few weeks she was reinstituted to "active action" and always assigned missions with other claymores. A few months passed before records indicate the depression ended. With its end Miria was promoted to No. 6, where her speed earned her the famous nickname, "Phantom" Miria. The nickname had been following Miria for some time, although by age twenty she'd finally earned it. Miria could run in flat country at speeds exceeding race horses, but it was her unequaled ability to sprint and change directions in short, extreme bursts that earned her the nickname. Her sparring partners would later recall she almost seemed to vanish even as they swung. This gave her an incredible advantage in sword-fights, although this was limited by Miria's Yoma energy usage. When Rubel finally managed to assign Miria a suicidal mission, her abilities were tested to the limit.

Miria and her three mission comrades survived, which was of great surprise to Rubel, who had hoped to have rid himself of her and three other "inconvenients" in one maneuver. Miria's squad survived however, largely thanks to the surprising skill of the bottom ranked No. 47, Claire. Miria recalls questioning the survivors in her diary. She was suspicious of how she'd been so misinformed about their target: a rare, powerful male awakened being. As she questioned the survivors, she realized an astounding fact: the survivors were all partially-awakened. There was the trouble-making, perfectionist No. 15, Deneve, the passionate and tomboyish No. 22, Helen, and finally the impetuous and revenge-driven Claire. Miria soon forged strong bonds with the others, a bond, if Organization records are to be believed, went entirely unnoticed.

Rubel, prodded on by an increasingly nervous Grand Alliance intelligence network, did everything he could to kill off the four partially-awakened claymores. Miria during this time went through some severe tests of her abilities, but having found a new family of friends to live for, she survived. Ermita even noted this new, upbeat attitude in Miria, praising her as a model soldier to his superiors, including Rimuto. What Ermita didn't realize is Miria had learned of the Organization's true mission. Miria claims several times in her diary that Rubel approached her before the suicidal mission he later sent her on. Sometime during their conversations he provided evidence of the Organization's true purpose.

Miria, having secretly hated the Organization for "desecrating" her body and Hilda's death, had finally found the idealistic reason for revenge she'd been seeking. However, being the wily woman she was, Miria smelled a trap, and decided to wait as she verified Rubel's evidence with secret trips into the Organization's archives. For over a year Miria and her comrades survived Rubel's attempts to kill them off, until finally, in the name of exterminating a giant army of awakened beings gathered in the island's north, Miria and her half-awakened friends were sent north. Appointed commander of a twenty-four warrior suicide expedition, Miria observed with little surprise that the Organization was purging its ranks of "miscreants" or dangerously smart individuals like herself. Rubel of course had managed to convince the leadership that the other half-awakened claymores were also "miscreants".

Miria and six others survived the mission, due chiefly due to her ingenuity, although guilt would haunt Miria for years. For the next seven years, Miria and those who followed her trained in the desolate wilderness of the island's north, safe from the Organization's reach. When the opportunity to head south finally came, Miria's team was thoroughly prepared. In a stunning, hard-fought campaign, the Organization and its headquarters were utterly destroyed by Miria's sterling leadership of the Northern War survivors and various defectors. The head of the Organization, Rimuto, was executed in Rabona while his few surviving lieutenants were imprisoned in the fortified city. Miria's overthrow of the old order seemed a complete success.

There was however a number of flaws in Miria's overthrow of the Organization, not least of which was allowing those claymores still loyal to the overthrown Organization to travel to the mainland. They were accompanied by several low-ranking Organization members, some of whom had secretly discovered Miria's partially-awakened condition. These individuals fled the island of Toulouse, bound on ships for the lands of the late Organization's backers, the Alliance of Nations. Their arrival there would lead to the opposite effect desired by the Grand Alliance and ultimately lead the world war into a far different future.

The astounding part about Miria's life was that Miria's life leading up to and including the Organization's overthrow are not the events for which she is most famous. Rather it is what came after the Organization's overthrow that most interests historians. Having overthrown the Organization and unaware she had accidentally and totally changed the Global War, Phantom Miria turned her attentions to annihilating the remaining Yoma and awakened beings on the island. Gathering the three dozen silver-eyed girls who'd sworn loyalty to her, Miria embarked on a island-wide hunt. It was a catastrophic success, accomplishing Miria's goals in four months but making the careers for which the claymores were best-suited no longer possible. The group split up into smaller groups, many working as bodyguards, exotic dancers, and even female escorts. By almost anyone's measure, this could only have seemed humiliating to the warriors that overthrew the Organization.

Events for Miria would keep getting worse over the course of the next two years, which ironically were the nadir of her life. Miria, to avoid the less savory and humiliating careers on offer, pushed into protecting merchants for a fee. Miria remarked in her diary that their travels seemed repetitive, which they often were. None of her merchant clients dared travel to the western lands of Lautrec, as they were engulfed in warlord conflicts previously repressed by fears of Yoma. The southern lands of Mucha were still recovering from years of catastrophic population loss, so merchants rarely went south. Miria's travels in this era were concentrated in the central lands of Toulouse and the island's east, Burgund (formerly Sutafu). Elsewhere things kept getting worse for Miria's kind. A number of claymores had attempted to support themselves through illegal prostitution in Rabona. In outrage, the theocratic government banned all claymores from permanent settlement in the city. The government was even considering ungratefully banning them from the city once more when Miria, in a rage, made them aware of her ire over refusing claymores temporary lodgings in Rabona. Facing Miria's wrath, the government soon backed down and allowed claymores to stay for limited periods.

Other claymores soon joined Miria in protecting the merchants, which must have seemed like a job they were meant to have. It seemed innocent, ideal work for former warriors, but times would soon change this work into a grittier business. Out of an idealistic desire to help people, Miria began escorting increasingly large convoys of merchants with the aid of four others. Accompanying Miria in these restless times was her old comrade Helen, the slavishly devoted Tabitha, Miria's beautiful successor at the No. 6 position, Renee, and a former Organization trainee named Natalie. As Miria's diary entries tell us, the bandits roaming the countryside at first were scared off by her mere presence. But as the merchants became increasingly hard to rob under claymore escort, the bandits changed tactics. They began attempting to use feints, night attacks, and then got so desperate they attempted fighting Miria's team. Knocked out almost immediately, the ever-larger groups of bandits changed tactics…

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**1 year after the Organization's overthrow**

Miria yawned as she walked down the road. She was some twenty miles south of Rabona, near the village of Malaga. She vaguely remembered Cid mentioning that it had been where he had been born. It was nearing night, and the sky was ablaze with the violet, red, and orange hues of sunset. She turned upon hearing a clanking noise. A massive, fully enclosed wooden wagon passed by, pulled by a pair of Rabonese draught horses far taller than Miria. The young male driver flashed her a grin.

Following behind his wagon were dozens of others, a number of human guards walking alongside the convoy. Miria was wearing her usual navy-blue leather outfit, which was very similar to the black leather outfit she had worn during the Organization's overthrow. It was a relaxing scene; the wide, open plains of the Toulouse River valley making an ambush by bandits nearly impossible.

"Miria," a female voice broke in from behind her.

Miria turned to find two silver-eyed witches behind her. One had familiar ruddy cheeks, short, cropped blond hair, and a navy-blue outfit that covered all but her neck and head.

"Helen," Miria yawned, "what's the matter?"

"There's some militiamen from the town of Malaga who are requesting that we round up the convoy and stop a little ways from the town," Helen explained.

Miria's eyebrows arched, "Any reason why we can't stop in the town?"

"They said there isn't enough room in the square," Helen stated. "There's something off about the way they—"

"Helen," Miria sniffed, exasperated, "would you relax? There's no need to be paranoid."

"Whatever you say, big sis," Helen replied. "They also said they'll stand guard over the convoy tonight. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to catch some sleep."

Helen walked off, her massive sword scarcely moving from its holder on her back.

"Um, Captain Miria," the remaining witch stammered, seeming genuinely over-awed, "can I sleep near you tonight? Renee's out scouting with Tabitha, so I thought…"

This bashful witch was shorter and more petite than Helen. She had two long strands of curly blond bangs, while her hair fell halfway down her back. Her face was cute, innocent, wide-eyed, and the petite warrior wore a navy-blue leather outfit similar to Miria's own. Upon the warrior's back was a massive, seemingly out-of-place claymore.

"It's okay Natalie," Miria sighed, feeling warm feelings about looking after the fifteen-year-old former trainee.

The wagons were rounded up for the evening beneath a small hillock topped by a pair of trees. The dozens of merchantmen, their wives, children, guards, and the militiamen all settled down as the wagon train formed a perimeter for the night. Campfires were soon started, the chain-mail armored militiamen all around giving Miria a secure feeling.

Miria leaned against a wagon wheel, her eyes drooping as she watched a nearby campfire.

Natalie walked over, sat down beside her, and inquired, "Um, Captain Miria, can I ask you a question about someone else?"

"Oh, alright Natalie," Miria sighed.

Natalie asked in an insecure voice, "Renee keeps talking about how she was imprisoned and escaped from Riful, the Abyssal One of the West. But if Riful is as powerful as Renee says, how did Renee survive?"

"If Renee hasn't told you I am certainly not going to get myself in trouble by doing so," Miria replied. "Go to bed Natalie. We're perfectly safe so it's alright," Miria reassured.

Natalie walked off thirty yards, found herself a free spot near a carriage, impaled her sword against the ground, and promptly fell asleep against it. Miria smiled; Natalie was already infamous for her ability to claim she wasn't tired and then fall asleep mere minutes after a strenuous activity. Miria stretched out and began to fall asleep.

Her dreams were strange; she could swear there were all sorts of voices around her.

One of them, a male voice commented, "That's her. We take her out we'll have them all."

Miria's mind slowly processed this when she lazily half-opened one eye. A sharp knife was the first thing she spotted, its trajectory going straight towards her neck. Reacting on instinct, Miria leaned right while thrusting out her arms. She knocked the knife from her assailant's hand. He was wearing the armor of a 'militiaman'.

She kicked out as he drew his sword to finish her. The kick connected with his jaw; he fell backwards with scarcely a sound. As he crumpled to the ground Miria noticed four of his comrades pull blades nearby. They attempted to rush her before she could stand and draw her claymore. Miria didn't give them that chance. She kicked up onto her feet and drew her blade just in time. She deflected two blows, dodged a third, and promptly counterattacked.

She knocked the sword out of the fourth assailant's hands. This Miria followed up with a spinning kick that utterly flattened two assailants. They landed unconscious before a sleeping convoy guard, who was jolted awake and screamed out. The remaining two assailants ran for it. Miria was about to follow when she saw dozens of archers atop the convoy's wagons. They were aiming for her, arrows pulled back, the strings taut.

Miria made a scrambling jump just as they fired. They missed as she rolled behind a wagon on the convoy's perimeter. The nearest guard wasn't so lucky. He had only just stood up when she had jumped right past him. The arrows meant for her stuck in the man like quills on a porcupine. He crumpled to the ground, dead.

A gruff-voiced man called out, "It's over witches. I have someone that belongs to you, and if you don't want to see her dead, you'll give up the convoy and every human in it."

Miria frantically glanced around the wagon's wheel to find Natalie in the encampment's center. A few yards away from Natalie was a dead man, no doubt killed when Natalie had reacted on instinct to the sudden assault. Natalie was kneeling, some five different archers holding her hostage. They had their bows taut, ready to fire, and mere inches away from the former Organization trainee. Miria let out a sigh of regret and closed her eyes a moment.

"Alright, I'm coming out," Miria stated.

The archers tracked her every move, bows taut.

The assailants' leader, a fair-skinned, smug-looking, brown-haired man, was amongst those holding Natalie hostage. Miria noted with alarm that Natalie looked very ill. She had little doubt of the cause; Natalie had just instinctively killed a human and broken the ultimate claymore taboo in defense of her life.

"Drop the sword," the man snarled.

"I don't think so," Miria replied, noticing that Helen was hiding behind a wagon on the opposite side of camp. Helen however had dozens of archers just waiting for her to make a move, the same as Miria. It appeared that the assailants had the advantage with Natalie hostage.

"Fine," the man murmured.

He shifted his bow's aim from Natalie's head to her shoulder and fired. Natalie screamed out in pain as Miria involuntarily took a step forward. Her hand was on the hilt of her sword, but she did not draw it.

"You take another step witch, we'll have your precious little girl's head shot full of arrows," the man warned. "That's right, there's absolutely nothing you can do."

Miria hissed, "What do you want?"

"What I want is for your kind to quit getting in the way of our livelihood," he spat. "We were sacking towns at will until they started hiring your witches. The word in the land is you're the big, bad mamma claymore on this island. They all report to you, so if we make a deal with you, we get what we want and your precious, young comrade will be safe."

Miria's eyes narrowed, "You're not going leave this encampment with her as your hostage."

"Oh I think we will," the bandit leader rebutted. "You claymores don't like taking life, and you most certainly would never tolerate losing one of your kind. Feels bad, doesn't it, knowing that we deceived you? I can see it now, the leader who brought down the Organization defeated by a smart bandit. I'll be Bastien the bold, victor over the legendary Phantom Miria."

Miria grated her teeth; the last thing she wanted was for this bastard to succeed in his plotting.

"Now, I want you and your other comrade behind me to turn around and walk away. You'll tell all your followers to stop interfering in our affairs, and then just maybe you'll see your precious little witch sometime," Bastien stated.

Miria's stomach churned; she knew that the other warriors no longer answered to her commands. They had split up months ago, and thus Miria knew if she let Natalie go now the girl would certainly be killed. She had to act, but the distance between her and the 15-year-old trainee was some twenty yards.

"I said turn around," Bastien snapped.

Miria sighed as she came to a very regretful but necessary decision. She held back her sword, but instead of sheathing it she was readying to strike.

Bastien laughed, "There's nothing you can do to save her. Go on Marcello, show Phantom Miria how serious we are."

Bastien glanced away from Miria as one of his men holding Natalie hostage shifted his aim towards Natalie's unwounded shoulder. Miria saw her moment and moved. In an instant she flung her blade with great force. It left her right hand spinning horizontally at a tremendous rate. Bastien scarcely had a moment to notice as it flew towards him.

Natalie ducked just in time; the sword cleared her head by half a foot. It cut Bastien and the men holding Natalie hostage in half at the waist. The sword ended its flight by smashing into the side of a wooden wagon. Miria back flipped a moment later as Bastien's supporters opened fire. Their arrows just missed Miria's legs. Miria landed atop a wagon as the bandit archers desperately tried to ready new arrows to shoot.

Helen's blade ended the confrontation in a brutal style, slashing down dozens of men. Their bodies fell from the wagons with sickening thuds. Miria rushed up to Natalie's side. Natalie was kneeling on all fours, breathing hard, her brow swathed in feverish sweat.

"Natalie, it's okay," Miria tried to reassure, although it felt like she was reassuring herself more than Natalie.

Natalie instead puked all over the ground. Miria helped Natalie to her feet with Helen once Natalie had entirely left her stomach's contents on the ground.

"I'm sorry Natalie," Miria apologized.

"You better frickin' be," Helen snapped, who was also not looking well. "We damn near died because of you being a trusting, goddamn naïve idealist!"

Miria, her stomach churning as she looked around at all the men they'd slain, objected, "We couldn't have known that—"

"No," Helen snapped, "you should have known better than to just take their word they were here to protect us. We nearly lost Natalie, and we ended up…I mean, I ended up killing…"

Helen's breathing slowed as she looked at her hands and down at the dead bandits mere yards away.

"I need a drink," Helen stated, walking off just as Natalie stopped to lean against a wagon's side.

The convoy's civilians began emerging in the darkness and shouting and crying out as they ran all over. Miria for her part could only hide her head in her hands as she stood next to Natalie. She knew things had just irreversibly changed, and there was no going back...


	2. Chapter 1: The Hard Knock Life

**Chapter 1: The Hard Knock Life**

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**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"  
**

**The history of the lands of Toulouse changed dramatically when they were liberated from the Organization's influence. In 1 A.L.E., or After Liberation Era, small governments throughout Toulouse broke free of outside rule. They did so through a combination of a human revolt and a number of former superhuman warriors attacking their former superiors. After the war of liberation, the Organization's headquarters in the eastern city of Staff was annihilated. As word spread of their liberation from the Organization and fear of predatory Yoma, the people of Toulouse celebrated. It seemed a new era of paradise was coming. **

** But two years later, things were different. The countryside, once kept mostly clear of bandits and armies by fears of Yoma, steadily fell into lawlessness and petty warlord-ism. The leader of the rebellion, the former 6th ranked warrior of the Organization, "Phantom" Miria, did her best to change the situation. However, the few dozens of warriors that had pledged allegiance to her and survived the war of liberation were not enough for the task. Eventually they splintered into disagreeing groups, many hiring out their protective services to traveling merchants, unfortified towns, bankers, and refugees in order to support themselves. **

**When the hiring of warriors lead to the effective end of bandits raiding villages and merchant convoys, a particularly bold bandit leader named Bastien went after Phantom Miria. He reasoned that if he could somehow force Miria to call off her former supporters, the good times would return. Little did Bastien know that Miria no longer had such control over her fellow warriors. This was one of several fatal miscalculations in his plan. The worst he made was attempting to take the ex-Claymore trainee Natalie hostage. With Miria acting as Natalie's surrogate mother and protector, Bastien never had the time to learn of the lethal dangers of provoking maternal instincts in silver-eyed warriors. **

**After this ambush, having broken the taboo of killing humans, Miria's group engaged in all-out fights against desperate bandits and brigands, some of whom were bent on revenge. The other claymores soon tired of this newly lethal profession, having never wanted to take human life. Miria emerged from these days a much-changed warrior, as did the other warriors, even the ones who left the profession early. When this happened the merchants began to stop traveling. A year after the attack, Miria knew her days as a merchant protector were coming to an end, but she stubbornly continued, making one last trip north of Rabona with a merchant named Ruud van Willems.**

**These must have been depressing times for Miria, but little did she know that they would not last much longer. Elsewhere, events both in Toulouse and abroad were in motion that would make the times ahead a dangerous new era. The events that were to make Phantom Miria truly famous were soon to happen."**

* * *

**Diary of "Phantom" Miria**

**15th of July, 2 years to the day after the Organization's defeat**

"I've come to the conclusion that going to bars with Helen is a very bad idea. I'll admit I should've stopped going along with her wild antics years ago. We wound up in the town of Strasbourg, which is renowned for its taverns and pubs. Helen of course insisted that all five of us had to visit the most infamous of these bars, 'Le scandale de Strasbourg Taverne'. With a name like that, I should've turned us around at the door. Helen of course saw no problems and somehow convinced us to join her. It was about as bad as one could expect. On roughly half the tables there were scantily clad, drunken prositutes or exotic dancers flirting with the menfolk. Helen was soon engaged in a drinking contest against these scantily dressed women, a game, which, thanks to Helen being a claymore, she easily won. Helen being Helen of course, she forgot to filter the alcohol.

When I mentioned I was not thrilled with the atmosphere, Helen immediately launched into a drunken rant. It was about how I ought to 'turn the tables' and set up a bar catering to 'girls like us'. Helen evidently had been cooking up ideas for a bar with shirtless male dancers who would appeal to female fantasies. She wanted to have it named after me, and I'll admit it was an amusing concept, except that I didn't want it named after me. Thankfully Helen doesn't know my last name or I dare say she'd try something like it anyways. When I didn't volunteer my last name, de Beauharnais, Helen got all grouchy and complained I didn't 'have a sense of humor'. She later put down my refusal to say anything to not being aware of what my last name was, which is a common problem amongst claymores. Actually Helen, I'm saving the last name for the day you say hell will freeze over: my wedding day. Helen bet Renee it would never happen, and Renee being competitive like she is, the girl has amusingly been keeping up a campaign for me to get married just to prove Helen wrong and win the bet.

Speaking of Renee, she keeps joking to me that Natalie's like my daughter lately. In some ways I suppose it is not so very far from the mark. If we weren't both part Yoma, it very well could be literally true. My thirty years make me nearly double Natalie's age, and there are plenty of women on the island that old with teenage children. Natalie has had a very odd upbringing, with a human childhood, then several years of brutal Organization training, and finally now fighting alongside me and protecting merchants. I wanted to bring her up as pure as the white snow, but instead she's been spilling the blood of bandits alongside me. I always end up sighing in regret thinking about it, like right now for instance.

It seems lately the brigands and bandits have finally figured out how to even the odds fighting us: using massed archers. The dangers arrows pose to our kind are obvious, since we all fight without any helmets. We have had several close calls to an arrow killing one of us in the last six months; Natalie in particular. All the violence has wiped out my prior delusions, like believing the island would bloom once given its freedom. I continue to hope that the holy city of Rabona gets ambitious enough to expand its territory and give this island some peace and stability, but the church has no such dreams. I don't know why I bother having such dreams anymore; perhaps it's because I've always had dreams, visions and ambitions. Sadly my only cares these days is that whatever merchant's convoy we're protecting pays us to protect them from attackers.

It's been the same hell this week as the last five; bandits attacking at night, attempting to catch someone off-guard or separated from our merchant convoy. The merchant convoy's owner is the usual; super smooth in persuading you out of your cash, but totally incompetent in military affairs. I expect we'll be attacked quite soon, especially if this merchant and ex-Rabonese lord, Ruud van Willems, gets his way with arranging security..."

* * *

It was the middle of the day, and Miria was pausing to dip her quill pen into the ink bottle. Her diary was marked full of entries, with an entry marked for each week in the last two years. She was seated upon a small, folding chair in the middle of a large but cramped wooden carriage. It had only two windows up high to let in light; conveniently just enough for Miria to write by during the day without candles. They had been on the road from Rabona for several weeks now, and were nearing their end destination. As far as Miria was concerned, this wooden carriage, choked full of trinkets and a bed tucked into its far end, was home, at least for now. Miria shared the carriage with the 16-year-old ex-Organization trainee, Natalie, which was ideal; especially given that Natalie more than any of Miria's companions needed her guidance.

Miria was wearing her usual clothing: a navy-blue leather outfit with a scandalous side-slit skirt and navy-blue leather leg and arm stockings. The outfit's form-fitting nature was useful in that it didn't restrict Miria's movement, but it did have its drawbacks. Its form-fitting nature tended to attract awkward stares from townsfolk, and drunks seem to think claymores wore nothing under the skirt. A drunk discovered otherwise when flipping up Renee's skirt, an act that led to him being sent to the infirmary by Renee, who was not known for her sense of humor.

Miria dipped the quill pen into the ink bottle to start writing once more.

The door of the carriage abruptly smashed open, light pouring into the carriage's dark interior where she was writing.

"Captain, we've been ambushed by bandits!"

The woman who'd barged in had long, braided blond hair and an attractive face, which was marred by a look of alarm upon it. There was an immense double-edged sword on her back nearly as long as she was tall, and wore a form-fitting, navy-blue leather outfit very similar to Miria's own.

It took but a moment for Miria to put down the pen and parchment while the silver-eyed woman watched.

"There's no time Captain," the woman snapped. "They've ambushed us on both sides, so just grab your claymore," the woman shouted, pointing to a great sword in the carriage's back right corner.

Miria followed the woman's advice and got up and grabbed an immense sword shining in the candlelight, its length not much less than her body's height. After taking a breath, she followed the woman out into the light of day.

Miria heard a whizzing noise; she ducked as something hit the carriage above her with several loud thunks. She looked up to see several arrows solidly lodged into the wooden carriage where her head had been but a moment before. Miria quickly surveyed her surroundings, a view which confirmed the woman's earlier statement. Miria could see twenty large wooden carriages following hers down an earthy road, each pulled by a team of four massive workhorses. The carriages' drivers all looked terrified despite wearing brown leather-armor jackets and short swords.

The horses were whinnying as roughly a hundred men armed with spears, long swords, halberds and battle axes descended upon the column on all sides. The men had positioned their ambush well, waiting for the carriages to enter a low point on the road surrounded by forest. The female warrior who'd raised the alarm earlier drew her own claymore as a small crowd of men charged the convoy on both sides.

"Renee, take those swordsmen to the right, I'll handle any to the left," Miria ordered the braided warrior.

"Yes Captain," Renee acknowledged, flashing a small grin.

Renee drew her massive claymore and rushed to meet a group of swordsmen wearing little more than mail armor to her right. Renee jumped over them with ease, easily dodged their attempted back-swings, and beheaded three of them with a single horizontal sweep of her sword. However, Miria's attention was drawn from Renee's fighting by a movement to the left. Coming out of the hilly woods to the left was a group of some five bowmen, each carrying a cache of arrows.

Two of the bandits immediately spotted Renee, who was busy literally disarming a group of spear-men, and drew their bows. Not waiting for Renee to be shot, Miria started sprinting towards the archers, and with a single swipe of her blade smashed the bows in half. The two bowmen gaped in surprise and then ran back into the forest. The other three attempted to draw their own bows when she slashed those apart as well. Wearing nothing more than a blue tunic, black boots and a mail shirt, they prudently ran back into the woods.

The battle in the front of the carriage train was over already, but along the rest of the convoy battles were being fought en masse.

"Renee," Miria called.

Renee turned around upon hearing her name, her braids whipping around with her head's rotation. "Get over there and help Helen!"

Renee ran forward, saving one of the convoy's guards from being run through by decapitating his would-be killer. She ran to Renee's left, where a brilliant movement caught Miria's eye. A silver-eyed girl in a full-body, navy-blue leather outfit with short blond hair was facing twenty times her number of bandits. Despite being outnumbered, the claymore's face was marked by an arrogant smirk.

"Is that it?"

The girl's taunt induced several bandits to come forward, at which the silver-eyed witch drew her immense sword with great speed and ease. The girl's right arm held the sword firmly, extending out to the left. The bandits barely had time to pause to consider this extraordinary event when it swept back to the right. The sword's sweep was fast and vicious, cutting through an uneven row of five spear-men. They crumpled almost immediately, pools of blood spreading on the ground where they fell.

Screams of dismay came from the remaining men, and they one and all dropped their weapons and ran for their lives. The victorious warrior, wearing a face full of battle-fury, adjusted the abnormally lengthened limb for another sweep regardless. Miria sprinted to stop the warrior's hand and grabbed it a mere foot from decapitating a long line of terrified men. The nearest man fainted when he looked over to see where the girl's blade had been stopped by her hands.

The rest ran off into the woods half-screaming, half-panting and soon out of sight. Miria turned to the girl, who was wearing an indignant mask, her eyes narrowed.

"You were planning to kill those unarmed men just now, weren't you Helen?"

"Goddamn your sense of morals Miria," the short-haired claymore cursed aloud into much more silent surroundings. "They might have been unarmed then, but they were more than willing to kill everyone here with weapons a minute ago. What's the point in saving their lives if they'll only kill people later?"

"You head down that path Helen..."

"I'm twenty-eight years old Miria, I'm not a child that needs a damn sermon about life. Now look at what you've done. We've won the battle already and you know full well those bastards will all be back attacking merchants later," Helen snapped back, retracting her right arm back to normal length.

Helen walked away down towards the end of the carriage train, where a number of the wooden carriages had been more thoroughly peppered with arrows on their sides. A number of the large workhorses were rearing in fright as the convoy's human guards attempted to remove arrows in their sides. Miria merely sighed as she watched Helen walk off and leaned against a wooden carriage's back door to rest.

Miria watched while Renee and Helen quietly exchanged a few words as they walked by one another. They were contrasts of one another, Miria reflected. Whereas Helen had the build of an average if athletic country farm girl, Renee looked one part boxer and one part tavern call girl. Renee had more of everything, a point not lost on the nearby carriage guards, who were uniformly staring at the bigger chest, butts, thighs, and longer legs of Renee instead of Helen's cute if less attractive frame. Ironically Helen was the far more flirtatious of the two with men, loving to crack jokes, drink, and seduce, while Renee was a model of chastity and rarely drank.

Helen continued moving on, stepping over several dead bandits' bodies while Renee glanced back at Helen and slung her sword in its holder on her back, sighing as she approached Miria.

"What is it Renee?"

Renee titled her head up curiously and folded her arms as two other warriors approached. Helen, still walking away, barely acknowledged these other warriors as they passed by.

"Captain Miria, it's about Helen. She keeps getting discouraged; she claimed this morning you don't have a plan to turn things around," Renee sighed.

"Not true," Miria answered Renee while raising a hand. "Two years ago there were still many Yoma wandering around. It took us four months to clear them out, and that was after we had killed or imprisoned most of the Organization's leadership. Our only problem was we got rid of the scourge that kept the bandits in check. Sooner or later you'll see someone, either in Rabona or outside it, take control of this island. What we're doing is keeping towns alive by protecting their commerce. Doesn't Helen feel it's done some good?"

Renee shook her head.

"No, she thinks that nothing's come of it," Renee explained as the two other female claymores walked closer.

One of the claymores was slightly shorter than the other, and was very noticeably clutching the ends of two arrows embedded into her. The ordinarily silver-eyed witch's eyes had turned a golden yellow, and the pupils had narrowed to snake-like slits. The petite warrior wore a navy-blue leather outfit much like the rest of them, and had curly, long blond hair nearly down to her waist, and was wretchedly groaning in pain.

"Good grief Natalie, I'm sorry to see you got shot up. You may rest up and patch your uniform inside my carriage if you'd like," Miria told the groaning girl, who nodded her assent.

The other silver-eyed witch who'd walked up was given considerably less attention by the carriage drivers than Renee. It was not hard to see why, as this girl had a frame even less voluptuous than Helen, with a conservative hair bun and a serious, professorial look.

"Captain Miria, I'm afraid I have some bad news," the girl sighed.

Compared to Renee, this witch scarcely looked like the type of claymore who could swing the massive sword dangling on her back.

"Yes Tabitha," Miria acknowledged, "What is it?"

"The chief merchant's bitching about paying us...again," Tabitha grumbled.

"You see," Renee pointed out by holding her arms out, "the same damn thing as last time!"

Renee's opportunity to rant was cut off by the approach of a well-dressed merchant, whose tunic was a beautiful composite of red, green and yellow. His black cloak swirled in the wind as he approached down the line of arrow bolt-peppered carriages. He was very tall, with black hair, a large hawkish nose, large hazel eyes and a scowl upon his face.

"I'll deal with this. Renee, Tabitha, I want you to scout the surrounding area until dark and report back if you see anything."

They turned off to their tasks, weary, sparing the merchant furtive glances as they passed by him and jogged into the woods and out of sight. The merchant stopped himself a good six feet from Miria when he opened his lips to speak.

"You call yourself a top warrior, but I have lost one horse and guard, and have three more wounded thanks to your supposed competence as a captain of guards. I want a discount of twenty percent off our agreed upon rate for our protection during the journey," he said stiffly.

"My supposed competence? Look, I have over sixteen years of active combat experience, Herr van Willems. The incompetence lies with you; you forbade my fighters from leaving the vicinity of the convoy, so of course we were ambushed. We could have easily scouted the surrounding area and avoided the ambush," Miria lectured him with a pointed finger.

"A fifteen percent discount, no less," Willems said a little louder than earlier.

"It would take a good 200 guards to guarantee this convoy's protection, and even then you would have been attacked. The five of us just killed over half of those attacking the column, and you paid us at a quarter the rate 200 guards would demand. The original price for your protection was already a bargain for the value."

Willems however continued to persist.

"A ten percent discount then," he sniffed as the convoy began moving once more. "That's my final offer."

Miria looked around briefly, and not spotting any of her warriors, grabbed Herr Willems by the collar and hauled him skyward. He uttered a few words of guttural fear as she let him hang from her outstretched arm.

"Listen, you might have been under the protection of more easily intimidated warriors before, so I'll explain this thoroughly for you. We claymores have to eat just like you, and if we don't get paid we don't eat, it's that simple. I was the leader of the warriors that took down the Organization. I have personally killed over two hundred bandits, ten awakened beings and four hundred Yoma in my travels. I have never in my life been treated with such disrespect. If you break the contract, I'll take my warriors and leave with the three quarters of the gold you already owe us for the entire journey. Then you and your impossibly small cohort of thirty guards can attempt to make it to Toulon."

She let him down, and he collapsed to his knees looking somewhat sobered.

"It's good to see you have some sense. I'd hate to see what would happen to you this far north in Toulouse. Everyone knows the border regions with Alphonse are legendary for being infested with dozens of roving armies of bandits," Miria finished.

She turned around, leaving Willems looking downtrodden as she trudged back to her wagon to check on the young Natalie. Natalie still had the arrows in her belly when Miria found her lying on her back on the carriage floor, Natalie's teeth gritted in pain.

Natalie asked, "Can we just not take them out?"

"No, no dear," Miria sighed at Natalie, "then you'll be in permanent pain and a bad mood all the time. Sit up now," she commanded the reluctant, petite claymore, whose sword looked awkwardly huge in comparison to her slight frame.

Natalie sat up with her help, gritting her teeth slightly. The arrows tilted sideways, their white-feathered shafts shifting as Natalie breathed. Miria examined the two punctures and discovered that both arrowheads were solidly lodged into Natalie's flesh.

"Alright Natalie, there are two options, and neither of them include keeping the arrows in you," Miria informed her young, cute-faced comrade.

"Nuts," Natalie exclaimed.

Miria laughed at Natalie's response, and then started smiling in spite of herself.

"This isn't funny mother," Natalie sniffed, slipping up.

She stopped smiling, but it was hard not to grin, "I'm your mother am I?"

Natalie's face froze up in embarrassment, "I meant to say Miria," Natalie explained sheepishly.

"Oh really," Miria noted, gripping around the base of the arrows' shafts embedded in Natalie's belly. "You're making me regret doing this. Now then Natalie dearest, which do you prefer, the really painful or the excruciatingly painful method of removing these?"

"The previous," Natalie answered.

"Alright, hold still, this is going to hurt quite a bit," she noted to Natalie.

Grabbing a hold of both arrow shafts with two hands, Miria drove them through Natalie's flesh and out her back. Natalie screamed as she did so, and did not stop doing so until after Miria had split the arrow shafts in two and taken out both sections. Miria dressed Natalie's wounds, then stitched up her navy-blue leather outfit's belly and backsides as Natalie whimpered.

"Did you have to push them out?"

Miria rolled her eyes at Natalie's complaining, holding up the wickedly pointed bodkin arrowheads, "Do you see these bodkin arrowheads? They're designed to hurt worse pulling them out than pushing them out. You need to get some additional rest this evening Natalie. Go to bed," she commanded Natalie.

Natalie, wincing slightly, hopped into her cot and then looked over.

"Mo...Miria," Natalie self-corrected, "could you tell me more stories of your warrior days?"

Miria crossed her arms, trying to look firm with Natalie, "Not tonight, you need your rest dear. Besides, I can tell you're tired."

"I'm not tired," Natalie said, a lie which was revealed by a yawn a moment later, "Ok, maybe a little," Natalie admitted.

Natalie's eyes soon closed after the carriage resumed its movement forward, the rhythmic swaying seeming to lull her to sleep. Miria watched, and after a minute tried to stifle a grin.

"God, whatever's happened to me? Why is it I feel so maternal these days?"

She glanced one more time at the blissfully sleeping Natalie tucked under the covers, then with a smile, Miria left to help clean up the mess outside.

* * *

Helen was going through the second of two red wine bottles when the carriage's back door opened to reveal Willems, the dusk light obscuring his features.

She hoisted her wine bottle, hiccupping as she did so, "Heaayyyy Willleeeeemmmsss, this is the good shit. I could drink this all day."

Willems clambered up the carriage's back steps, appearing in the candlelit wagon. The carriage was long, and mostly filled with the bed and a treasure trove of red and white wines along the walls.

"Is that so Helen?"

"What's za matter with you?"

Helen was dressed in her navy-blue leather outfit from earlier, only she had removed her sword and laid it to the right of the door. Helen petted the warm woolen mattresses of the bed to beckon Willems to her side. He blew out a pair of candles from the carriage's hanging metal chandelier, then upped the mood some more by removing his cape.

"Your Captain Miria is a scary person, you know that?"

"Uh oh," Helen commented, pouring another glass of wine for herself. "What'd ya do?"

"She grabbed me by the collar and threatened to take the rest of you and leave," he said with less than a truthful air.

"You vanted a discount, didn't you?"

Willems' face wore a look of surprise, "How did you know?"

Helen took out a second glass and poured, handing it to him.

"It's not the, hic, the first time. Here's a little advice playboy," Helen suggested, "don't ever try shitting around on a deal with Miria. Miria's nice enough ven you pay, but it payz to alvays be on, hic, Miria's good side."

Willems finished removing his boots, kicking them off at the foot of the bed.

"To be truthful with you Helen, this is probably going to be last time I'll do this journey. When the Yoma disappeared we made a bonanza, but our profits have been getting hammered by having to pay for all this security. I can't afford to keep paying for enough guards to stop ever-larger bandit armies forever, not when they're over a hundred strong."

She shook her head, "Dvwelling on it's not helpvull."

"I think I'm going to go back to Rabona and start a business there and just stay put. It's too dangerous traveling anymore," he remarked, removing his shirt.

Willems had a muscular chest, the sort girls dreamed about. Although he was a little hairy for her tastes, his great stature more than made up for it. He fell to his knees and kissed her on the neck.

"Boy, and I zought I rushed gettings into the mood," Helen remarked while setting the wine bottle down.

"I'm surprised you're not after this evening," he countered, unzipping her leather outfit down the back.

She grabbed him and gently pulled him down atop her. "I aggreez Ruud. There's nothing like wine und sex to make youz forget all offz your troubbuls."

Ruud didn't answer, but instead unzipped the front of her outfit as well, stopping tactfully just below her breasts. He pulled her uniform down to just below her breasts, and she gasped as he kissed one of her nipples.

"Eazzeee boi," Helen finished by directing his lips to her face.

As they kissed she felt his hands remove her bottoms, and his body began heating up down below, stretching his bottoms against her hips. She removed the belt holding his bottoms, and soon enough she was able to push this off as well. She could feel the heat of him rub against her below, although his attention was more on burying himself into her breasts.

He at last pressed her back against the bed and positioned himself. With a single downward stroke, his heat melded into Helen's own. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and together they began to get into a steadily stronger rhythm, breathing hard. By the time he had pressed back into her a third time, she gave out an involuntary moan of pleasure, the first of what was to be many that night.

* * *

They arrived in Toulon, a small walled town of a few dozen buildings perched romantically atop a hill. Miria was nearly asleep when they arrived, fully awakening only when the young Natalie's curly hair brushed her nose.

She sneezed and blinked open her eyes as the daylight filtered into rocking carriage through its pair of small side windows. Miria stopped short when she saw Natalie's young, innocent face and blush-red cheeks a foot from her face.

"Natalie, you mind?"

Natalie backed off and smiled awkwardly, grabbing a large claymore hanging on the wall.

"Here you are Captain Miria," Natalie said in a sweet voice, holding out the sword to her.

Miria grabbed her sword and got to her feet, looking out the window at what appeared to be a town square. Just in view was a small church, as well as a little used market for fruits and vegetables hawked by several older women.

"Natalie, in the future, just wake me up by touching me on the shoulder. If Tabitha were ever to see you waking me up with your hair, I can't say I'd like to see the consequences. Come on then, out we get."

Miria attached her sword to her back, checked to see if her clothing were properly adjusted, and then kicked open the door to be blinded by the morning sun.

"It's a good morning, isn't it Captain Miria?" Natalie exclaimed behind her, looking around with a cheery smile upon her face.

She smiled in spite of herself at Natalie's enthusiasm. Natalie's spirit never dampened, which was a godsend in the face of all the adversities they'd been through.

"What's gotten you so happy this morning?"

They clambered down the steps to see Herr Willems walking off the back of his own wooden carriage further away, dressed even more magnificently than usual in a fine red-plumed hat.

"Oh it's just we don't get to see many nice towns anymore. Plus, I found this guy," Natalie turned around, picking up a plush black-coated cat.

"Isn't he a beauty? I caught him back after the ambush and cooped him up in the carriage."

Natalie held him up to Miria's nose, and abruptly Miria felt a tingling. She tried to hold back, but Natalie pressed him straight towards her face.

"Isn't he such a wittle beauty," Natalie cooed in an affectionate voice as several townspeople, the boys especially, stared in surprise at her. "He's my little snuck-ums, aren't you sugar?"

"Natalie," Miria tried to protest.

"Ahh Captain Miria, don't you think he's the most adorable cat you've ever seen? He's going to be my spoiled little baby boy. Here, why don't you have him?"

Natalie tried to press him into Miria's arms, despite her resistance. Eventually Miria's nose could take no more, and she sneezed violently upon both Natalie and a very alarmed cat. It clawed Natalie briefly, broke free of her grip, and began running across the cobbled stone square. Natalie chased after the cat frantically.

"Cid, sweetie-pie, please come back to mommy's arms," Natalie called out as she stumbled after him to much laughter from a crowd of teenage boys nearby.

"God, a few more hours of her around in this town and we'll never be able to sell our services," Renee's voice commented.

Miria turned to find Renee looking serious, with the thinner Tabitha wiping sleep out of her eyes while walking to Renee's side.

"Why did Natalie have to name the cat Cid? Of all the names she could have picked," Miria muttered low.

"Easy Captain Miria," Tabitha grinned, "Natalie doesn't know you that well."

"It's still hard to believe Natalie's survived as a trainee," Renee remarked, pursing her lips. "An attitude like that ought to have gotten her killed in training. It's remarkable Natalie lasted until age fourteen when we rescued her from the Organization."

They looked down the long line of 20 wooden wagons, all of which were being hurriedly unloaded and stalls set up as curious townspeople gathered around the merchants. Miria cast a glance down the row, and was surprised to find Helen walking fully dressed out of Herr Willems' carriage. Upon Helen's face was a satisfied smirk, which Miria noted as Helen dropped down to the ground to check out the merchant activity around her.

"That goddamn girl," Miria muttered furiously. "The man tries to shake me down for a contract discount when we need every penny we can get, and look at her, she keeps bedding him!"

"The worst part is all of Helen's friends with benefits are married," Tabitha commented dryly.

"Do we really know that?"

Tabitha and Miria both turned to stare incredulously at Renee, "Ok, so they probably are all married, but I had to say it to be cautious."

Helen walked off in the opposite direction, oblivious.

"She's been like this ever since Deneve died two years ago. The only way she's been able to cope is sleeping with every good-looking, wealthy, married guy she's come upon and drinking all their alcohol," Tabitha observed unhappily.

"It's been getting worse," Renee added. "Helen thinks we aren't fighting for anything but ourselves anymore, and the more depressed she gets the more men she sleeps and drinks with."

Tabitha butted in, "Captain Miria, I hate to ask, but do you think Helen could get pregnant one of these days? I mean, she is partially awakened after all. If it can happen to Claire..."

"Perhaps," Miria whispered low as a pair of men walked by. "But Claire had pushed her limits a lot more than Helen, so Claire's body was probably more fertile when she began bedding Raki."

Tabitha stared as the town's flag, a pair of golden, twin angels on a white background, was unfurled atop the church.

Renee queried, "But why didn't Claire stay in Rabona with him? She left...what was it...around four months after we won, didn't she?"

Across the square they heard a scream of triumph as Natalie hoisted the cat Cid above her head to much laughter, having caught him at last.

Miria looked around, and finding no one in earshot, including the approaching Natalie, whispered low to both girls, "Claire and Sister Galatea had a religious disagreement...a really strong religious disagreement. Claire got pregnant before she was properly married by the Rabona Orthodox Church, and well, Galatea made certain the church would refuse to recognize their union."

Tabitha's eyes bulged, while in contrast Renee's narrowed.

"Why is that? I thought Claire saved Galatea's life," Renee commented, scratching her forehead in confusion.

"Oh she did, but you see Claire's religion and Galatea's religion are two different animals. Galatea is a rigid believer in the idea that there is one god, and she sticks close to the conservative teachings of the Rabona Orthodox Church. Claire in Galatea's mind was a heathen, albeit a heroic one, who believed in the twin goddesses Teresa and Claire. Claire wasn't being very cautious a month after the victory and told Galatea her beliefs. They got into a huge argument over whether Teresa and Claire were goddesses or merely the angels of god like the Rabona Orthodox Church claims," Miria explained in a low voice.

"You can't be serious," Renee stuttered in disbelief. "They fell out over religion?"

"I'm perfectly serious," Miria said while folding her arms. "It was shortly after that when it became obvious Claire was pregnant. Galatea was furious with her, told her she was desecrating the holiness of life by not having gotten married first. Claire for her part slapped Galatea and left."

"Just how did you find this all out?" Tabitha asked, almost incredulous.

"Raki told me shortly before they left, and I haven't seen, heard of or felt a sign of them since they left Rabona," Miria stated, sighing.

Natalie ran back holding a hissing Cid above her head.

"I got him, did you see that Captain Miria?"

Natalie's tone seemed to suggest she wanted to be praised.

"Before we find our next paying job, I've come to a decision about something," Miria announced, ignoring the frowning Natalie.

Natalie properly ruined Miria's formal declaration by giddily placing a very annoyed Cid atop her own head. This decision was not to his pleasure, and he soon began tucking his claws into Natalie's hair and the back of her neck. Natalie yowled in pain as Cid hissed, and then began shaking back and forth to fling him off as Cid dug in his claws for dear life.

Tabitha couldn't take it, stopped Natalie in mid-swing of her head, grabbed the panicked cat, and promptly placed the cat calmly into her own arms.

"Oww," Natalie said, rubbing her neck and head gingerly where Cid had scratched.

"You oafish girl," Tabitha lectured sternly, holding Cid calmly. "If you're going to have a cat, you should learn how to play with him properly.

Renee turned back to Miria, "So what was this decision you wanted to tell us about?"

Miria took a glance at Helen, who was busily chatting with Ruud van Willems, then placed a hand on Renee's right shoulder and looked her in the eye, "You're second-in-command now Renee."

* * *

The news of Helen's dismissal as second-in-command behind Captain Miria was not spread to Helen's ears until later. Though Helen had pouted and shouted, she had eventually settled down. In the meantime Miria had contracted them out, although for a modest sum of gold plus food, to provide a group of refugees' passage from Toulon to northeast region of Toulouse, the central lands of the island of Toulouse. There the refugees would find refuge in Toulouse's only major port town, Hanse. It was located along the island's northeastern coast, lying in the narrow region of Toulouse on the sea. To either side, not far away, were the northern lands of Alphonse and the eastern lands of Burgund.

It had been a grueling week-long journey from Toulon, and none of them had much enjoyed it. Helen had been fuming for much of it, muttering low things no one else could quite hear but couldn't help but notice. They'd deterred two bandit attacks, since as soon as their would-be robbers saw them they fled into the hills.

When at long last the cool breezes of the sea hit their faces, Natalie was alone in her enthusiasm in running up the last hill to see it.

"Come on Renee," Natalie shouted at her, waving her arms wildly with Cid the cat circling silkily about her atop the bared earth of the road.

Renee walked up the road, which was surrounded by large rocks and almost no trees, and sighed when at last she saw the welcoming expanse of the sea on the horizon.

"Isn't this great Renee?"

Renee looked at Natalie, envying her vivacity.

"Oh sure, but first, I've got to stretch my legs out," Renee answered sleepily, yawning.

Renee stretched down and pulled hard upon her feet, feeling her muscles loosening and a refreshed feeling come over her. It lasted until the moment Natalie interrupted.

"Renee," Natalie whispered. "Stop that! They're all staring at your ass!"

Renee turned around to find the culprits, nearly a dozen men and even their wives looking sheepishly away from her. Or at least some of the wives, as a couple of them promptly ran up the road to their husbands yelling at them. As they paused the poorly-dressed refugees in their worn-out shoes kept plodding past, a few of the men sparing her a cursory glance. The women however spared her nothing except a bunch of hard looks.

Eventually they passed out of earshot, and behind them, walking up the hill, came Helen with Miria at the back of the column.

"You see Miria," Helen harrumphed, pointing at her while Miria didn't even look. "Leave miss vanity alone for one minute and she's showing off her ass to..."

Miria caught Helen's jaw and clamped it shut, sternly shaking her head at Helen's antics. Miria only let go a few moments later once it was clear Helen wasn't going to back-talk.

Just a glance was enough for Renee to tell that Miria was distinctive amongst the five of them. Miria's hair featured spiky bangs, each flowing down from either side of her beautiful face. These Miria complemented with a spiky ponytail of hair in the back, which fell just past Miria's shoulders. Miria's face had wider cheeks than Helen, arched eyebrows, and Miria's eyes...

"Captain Miria, your eyes have a bit of blue in them I think," Renee declared.

"Ohh, ohh," Natalie said, bouncing in excitement, "I think you might be right!"

This for once drew Helen's attention away from sneering, "What the hell you talking about you two," Helen countered. "Miria's eyes haven't changed one bit."

Miria paid them all no heed and kept walking past.

* * *

The road down to the town ran alongside several fields stuffed full of sheep, and at last the road began a steep descent, bringing Hanse into view at last. It was a rather large town, stuffed full of more than a hundred black-roofed buildings built with steep roofs. Surrounding the town was a crude wall of stakes that any one of the warriors in the group could have sliced open with a swing. The town itself had the look of past prosperity that had fallen on harder times.

It was nestled at the top of a hill overlooking a scenic harbor and numerous small fishing boats. The water below the rocky hill of the town was picture perfect; clear enough to see through to the bottom. It had a pearly, soft-blue quality to it, and within the harbor several boys were splashing each other in the shallows.

It was when they wandered into town that they found Tabitha. She had been surrounded by a group of townspeople wielding pitchforks and shouting insults at her in the town's small central square.

"Hey you witch, get your monstrous hide out of Hanse," a teenage girl shouted at Tabitha.

"We don't need monsters like you around," a man's voice screamed.

"I'm not a monster," Tabitha shot back with not a lot of volume, "I'm a claymore!"

"Claymores and monsters are the same thing," a teenage girl interjected. "If you're just like one of us, then why are your eyes silver?"

Tabitha's tense face visibly brightened upon seeing her claymore comrades approach from behind the crowd.

"Captain Miria," Tabitha called, waving her right arm enthusiastically.

The crowd one and all turned to see the four of them. Natalie looked a little surprised at the commotion, having only just picked up Cid to find herself feet away from a mob with pitch forks.

"More witches! Quick, let's run their behinds out of town."

"They're nothing but trouble," a man seconded.

"Not to be trusted," another woman yelled.

Abruptly several of the boys and girls picked up stones off the ground and threw them, several striking Miria in the head.

"Alright you little asses," Helen thundered, drawing her sword. "The next rotten scoundrel to throw a stone at Miria or any of us I'll knock unconscious.

Helen's threat was taken quite seriously, and for a moment there was perfect silence.

A brave older woman in a blue dress stepped forward. "The town of Hanse has no use for any of you. You'll find no work here; we know it was you warriors that destroyed the Organization!"

Renee scowled, "The Organization was using you as part of an experiment!"

The woman spared Renee but a glance and continued backed up by agreeable murmuring in the crowd at each of the woman's major points.

"You say the Organization was evil, but what have you given us? We live in a world where we fear for our lives from robbers, bandits, and robber barons more than we ever did from Yoma. We would have been better off if it weren't for the rotten lot of you!"

With the woman's rant done, the crowd walked off with Helen eying the civilians with distaste and Renee wearing an unhappy expression. Tabitha came forward, smiling and evidently happy to have had her tormentors dispersed.

"Thanks guys," Tabitha said warmly.

Miria could not look any of them in the eyes, and felt just a little despair creep over her. It took a little while, but at last she could feel a single warm trickle fall down her cheek.

Helen asked while looking surprised, "Miria, are you crying?"

All four of them rushed forward to offer their sympathies.

"Oh for pity's sake, I'll be alright, it was just a moment of weakness," she sighed.

Renee dried her cheek with a hand as Tabitha offered her glove as a handkerchief.

"No, I'll be alright," Miria sniffed. "It's just that I thought we could make a difference, and here we are, and nobody here even wants our help."

Renee spoke up in an uncertain voice, "But we did the right thing helping those refugees, didn't we?"

Miria blinked her eyes, although they refused to stop moistening.

"Yes, and it will probably be the last time too. Let's face it, that old woman was right. Their lives have gotten nothing but worse in the last two years, and we've been powerless to stop that. I thought we could help people by spreading ourselves across the island, but there are only thirty five of us. I should have known it wasn't going to work," Miria sighed.

Renee suggested, "What if we joined up with Nina and Nadia's group up north?"

Miria blinked her eyes at this, having not actually thought of heading north.

"That's if they're still there," Tabitha muttered quietly.

Renee shrugged, "Nina and Nadia said they were heading north into Alphonse. They said they wanted to quit moving around and settle down in Pieta."

Miria looked at the rest of them, her eyes drying at last.

"Well, I guess there's no point in staying here for the night. How about we sleep outside the town for tonight before we go on to Pieta?"

Natalie butted in innocently, "But why would we want to head north to the northern lands if all you guys ever do is complain about how snowy it was there? How are we supposed to eat if it's nothing but snow all year?"

"I've been wondering the same thing myself," Renee added.

"You two idiots," Helen jokingly goaded, "Why would anyone settle in towns there if you can't grow food?"

Natalie's eyes bulged, "You mean it's not frozen all year?"

Tabitha's face grew an uncharacteristic smirk as she answered Natalie's question, "For seven months yes, but the growing season is still four months long. Its how we managed to keep ourselves fed for all those years. Actually, Pieta's the coldest place in the entire north, because it's nestled high up in a mountain pass."

"But Pieta's the furthest south," Natalie reasoned, "shouldn't everything further north be colder?"

"Nah," Helen stated nonchalantly, "the whole damn place is really high above sea level, that's the only reason it's so cold. The further north you go the lower the land, and the warmer the weather."

"But that doesn't make sense," Natalie reasoned, "mo...I mean Captain Miria always said the further north one goes-"

"Look you idiot," Helen blurted out, "I don't have-"

"Helen, hold your tongue before I do it for you."

Helen gulped and glanced over at her, "Yes Captain Miria, sorry big sis."

"Alright now," Miria continued on past Helen's awkward apology and Natalie's sudden annoyed scowl at Helen, "we'll be going straight to Pieta then. Any objections?"

Everyone vigorously agreed to their captain's proposal.

* * *

The night was passing peacefully enough underneath a large oak tree, where Miria was guarding the others on third shift of watch duty. The view of the sea was spectacular, given they were on a scenic bluff overlooking the ocean. The ocean breeze was particularly pleasant, and she got up to look out at the stars beneath a dark sea. It was when her eyes were wandering the starry skies that a flash of red caught her eye. Far out to sea a blob of luminous yellow, orange and red was sailing through the air in an arc, dimly visible.

"What the," Miria muttered.

The first light died out, but then a second and a third set of lights ascended from spots not far from where the first had appeared.

Miria rushed back to the rest of the others, Helen's snores covering all sounds of the others' collective breathing. She shook Renee awake, who blinked and shook her head.

"I thought you said I had fifth shift Miria," Renee complained, getting her head off her knapsack, which Renee was using as a pillow.

"Look out to sea, there's something going on!"

Renee glanced out to sea and abruptly, just below the horizon a half dozen of what looked to be fireballs launched into the sky.

Renee shook Helen awake as Miria rushed over to the blissfully sleeping Natalie, upon whose chest was sleeping Cid the cat, all curled up. Miria gently shook Natalie's shoulders as well as Tabitha's next to her.

Helen, Tabitha and Natalie all woke up, with Helen being in the foulest mood by far.

"Look Renee, I put up with you flashing your muscular ass and big breasts during the day, go get somebody else to do your damn shift!"

Renee snapped, "Oh for god's sake, I got you up to see. I think there's a sea battle going on."

The last fireball had extinguished by the time Helen and the others looked.

"Miria, Renee, look, don't wake us up if there's nothing to see," Helen lectured.

Then abruptly a massive, explosive fireball illuminated much of the horizon, including about six ships just barely visible below the horizon. But as soon as the fireball died out, the sky was once again perfectly dark.

"What the hell was that," Helen exclaimed, seeing the explosion perfectly well.

Tabitha and Natalie looked genuinely interested, but no more fireballs flew through the night. The rest of the night passed as planned, and eventually Miria was woken up by Renee as the dawn light just broke across the horizon. The others followed, but upon the horizon there was no sign of either ships or debris from whatever had happened the previous night.

* * *

The trek up to Pieta was far less eventful, and took them less than two days unburdened by having to guard columns of slow-moving humans. Large mountains met the sea as they neared the northern lands of Alphonse, and they turned west into the interior. They were forced to hunt down a deer and cut it into cat-size morsels, as Natalie's cat Cid had grown quite hungry. They ate what little of it they could and continued into the foothills.

Eventually they reached the mountain pass into Alphonse, and found the weather tolerable, as the snows were melting and wildflowers were blooming. The road, little used in the nine years since the Northern War, had become overrun with weeds and fallen rocks. No one seemed to mind, and at last they rounded a hill when they all noticed faint traces of yoki energy. Tabitha rushed forward to the top of the pass.

"They're here!"

Natalie and Tabitha were wearing enormous smiles and jumping up and down, so Miria sprinted forward to see. Upon reaching the top of the pass, a green valley opened up down below. A large former town was visible, much of it in ruins and overgrown with plants. However, some buildings within it looked repaired or vaguely usable. A narrow patch of relatively traversable terrain was before them, which they descended down towards the town. Their progress was soon halted by the presence of a large barrier placed across the road.

It was a large if crudely created wall of stones a story high, which the road pierced underneath a well-built gatehouse. It was guarded by two piles of stones higher than the rest of the wall, which extended straight to either side until it hit two rocky ledges each taller than it. A modest rusting iron gate barred the way between the two towers of stones.

"Hello," Helen yelled.

No one answered for a moment, and then abruptly the metal gate before them opened. Two men armed with spears and clad in padded leather armor ventured out. They bowed respectfully and motioned towards the open gate.

"Mistress Miria," they said in unison. "The town mayor has been expecting you."

They were taken past the gate to find fields under cultivation, mostly by young men and some women. It was only upon closer inspection and feeling the Yoki energies in the local area that they noticed what was amiss. The farm-girls were a mix of human girls and silver-eyed warriors, but clad identically in working clothes and dresses. Nearly all the warriors stood up and stared.

They followed the two gate guards into the town of Pieta, much of it still wrecked from the northern war some nine years prior. But the church had been repaired, and even a three story inn across the street. The guards led them to the inn, and opened the doors. The inn's lobby was modest, but featured a nice fireplace, carpeting, and even rocking chairs and several crude religious paintings.

"They're upstairs Mistress Miria," the guards pointed, and hurriedly jogged back to their posts.

Miria walked up the carpeted stairs, Renee beside her, Helen leading the rest of them behind with loud footsteps. At last they reached the second floor, and at the end of a narrow hall was a twin set of doors guarded by two male guards. Just above the door was a sign framed in gold that said, "Maire de la ville". Miria walked up to the door.

"Ha, somebody thinks they're a big shot," Helen commented, looking at the sign, "I wonder which one of the girls is the town mayor eh?"

The guards did not answer, merely saluting, and both put their hands out afterwards.

"Mistress Miria, it is an honor to finally meet you," they both said simultaneously, leading to some confusion on both their parts.

"I would prefer if you called me Captain Miria," she pointed out. "May I go in?"

"Our apologies Captain Miria; you may enter at any time," they answered together again, and a good-natured chuckling from Helen broke out behind her. She suddenly realized both of the bearded, sword-carrying guards looked identical to the other.

"Identical twins," one sympathized. "We have a tendency..."

"...to finish what the other says," the opposite identical twin interjected.

Miria looked between them and opened the wooden door's lion-headed latch. She found a room with a polar bear rug upon the floor in front of the door. On one side were two simple windows with black shades hanging about them. The floor was a varnished oak masterpiece, and several bookcases made of oak complemented it on the left wall. Further along the left wall was a fireplace with a fire burning even as they walked in.

The room was warm, and its warmth extended to the simple, solid maple desk at the far end. Just above it was the head of a horned monster, probably an awakened being Miria judged, mounted on the wall as a trophy. Below it and behind the desk itself were two individuals, both with silver eyes. One of them wore her blond hair pulled back into a long ponytail, a single strand of golden bangs descending down the left side of her face. This warrior was wearing a navy-blue leather uniform like the rest of them, but the woman seated in a large chair besides the warrior was not.

This woman had the silver eyes of a hybrid warrior, but her blond hair was short and curly, cutting off just above her shoulders. Her bangs hid much of her forehead, and she had thick cheeks in contrast to her thin-cheeked companion. She also had big lips and a short chin, unlike her standing companion whose attributes were much the opposite.

"Well, look at you Captain Miria," the seated warrior commented warmly. "I was hoping I'd see you come here eventually."

"Hello Nadia, Nina," Miria acknowledged the seated and standing girls in order.

Nadia was smiling at hearing her name, and Miria noticed Nadia was without her sword and wearing a simple black tunic with a white belt.

"You have got quite the start of a settlement here. I can sense twenty-seven warriors besides the five of us. If my memory is right, I believe I remembered there were thirty six warriors who survived the Organization's destruction, counting trainees as well. So then, who's missing now that there are thirty-two of us here?"

Nadia grinned, "The usual suspects of course."

Nadia got up, followed by Nina, and the two of them shook everyone's hands. Nadia and Nina both paused when they got the Natalie, who at sixteen looked youthfully out of place, especially with a black cat wrapped around the back of her neck.

"I'm Natalie," Natalie stated, holding out her hand with infectious enthusiasm.

"I can't say I remember you Natalie," Nina sniffed. "Did you ever join the ranks of warriors?"

"Umm, no, but I've been traveling with Captain Miria ever since she rescued me from my days training. I'm just sixteen, so if you want to duel take it easy please," Natalie told them, shaking Nina's hand unusually hard.

Nadia interrupted this awkwardness with a question, "So Captain Miria, did you tire of the pointless violence down south?"

It took a mere glance to see Nadia was deadly earnest about the question.

"Well, I suppose, and it does seem like a nice peaceful place to rest awhile," Miria said, honestly answering Nadia's question.

Nina and Nadia both exchanged glances before Nadia spoke up in a deeper voice: "Actually Captain, I'd like to ask if you'd consider staying...permanently," Nadia added significantly.

"This place may feel like a bit of heaven to me right now, but I could never rest while so many others suffered," Miria explained apologetically to a frowning Nina and Nadia.

"This is humanity's world, not ours, and our interference in their world has gotten us nothing but ingratitude. Tell me Miria," Nina spoke up, "do you really think we can make a difference anymore?"

* * *

"Evening Miria."

Miria turned to find a green dress-wearing Nadia seating herself next to her at the town's only bar. Miria was wearing her usual navy-blue outfit, which surprisingly had garnered a respectful reaction from the town's men folk. Miria had before her a large pint of dark beer, and although it didn't have great taste, it was at least refreshing.

"Evening Nadia," Miria murmured.

"What's with you?" Nadia asked, puzzled but smiling. "You look like you feel guilty about something. Is something the matter?"

"Drinking always makes me feel awkward," Miria admitted.

"Why's that?"

"It's because of something that happened in Murten in western Toulouse a year and a half ago," Miria explained. "It was not long after we'd broken up, and the five of us, me, Helen, Renee, Tabitha and Natalie were being generous. We allowed Murten to pay us for taking out the town's Yoma population in beer and food. Helen however drank all the beer in a night, so Renee demanded a change in future pay."

"Which was what?"

"Well, we never again took in beer as pay. Renee made me swear that I would never condone Helen's drinking after that. I took her challenge up and hadn't touched a beer until now for the last one and a half years."

Nadia merely smirked at hearing this, and then began drinking a pint of golden malt beer. A commotion broke out at the opposite end of the crowded tavern: four men, all in their late teens and early twenties judging by their faces, had approached Natalie. Natalie was not unattractive, with her long, curly blond hair, her cute face, rounded if small breasts, and obvious youth. Evidently one of the boys had been trying to wrap his arms around Natalie's shoulders when Renee had walked over and thrown them off.

There was a good deal of loud but indecipherable lecturing by Renee, whose braided hair marked her apart from every one of the other two dozen warriors present in the bar. Miria smiled, as Renee's appearance had only momentarily thrown the men off their original target. Renee soon appeared flustered as they instead turned to her, as did many a man elsewhere in the room.

Nadia finished her beer in short order and then ordered herself another round of beer. Miria looked around the large room, which was host to a plethora of circular tables and two opposing bars. It was lit by several black iron chandeliers, each host to dozens of slowly burning candles. Nadia glanced back at Renee, who was trying her best not to blush at the attentions of more than a dozen young men.

"Shouldn't we do something Nadia?"

Nadia glanced at Renee and Natalie's awkward situation, and shook her head.

"It's best if she got used to it. There's already three of us warriors married you know," Nadia explained.

Nadia shook a golden ring upon her left hand.

"I got this from my husband Raul. He's the only goldsmith in town now, so I guess I'm a lucky lady," Nadia smiled, winking at a dark-haired man seated at the table immediately in front of them.

Raul waved back while winking at his wife, who was short and very voluptuous for a warrior.

"He's a joy to have around. He barely commented about my belly our wedding night," Nadia revealed.

"So what are we going to do here if we stay?"

Nadia drank some of her beer while she considered. Renee and Natalie meanwhile had left through the tavern's central door, both trailing a large coterie of male admirers.

"Shouldn't you put a stop to them harassing those two? Renee's got a bit of a temper you know," Miria stated, explaining her concern.

"Oh alright Miria," Nadia sighed. "Raul honey, be a dear and help the two new girls if you would," Nadia instructed her husband, who nodded politely and left the tavern.

"Back to my question."

Nadia stared at her a moment before answering.

"I know you like fighting Miria, but there's no such work around here. There are no bandits this far into the mountains you see. Besides, we've got two dozen plus warriors here, so any attack would be pure suicide. Heck, even if we left, the men could probably defend this place easily. The only work you'll find here is pretty mundane, but honorable. We've got a need for more farmers, carpenters, tailors, metalsmiths, shepherds, clerks, bankers and more."

"I'm not sure I could adjust to being just Miria the tailor," Miria sighed.

"Trust me Miria, you'll get used to it. Besides," Nadia paused, "there are fair number of refugees from northern Toulouse coming here now. When we originally settled here two years ago, there was only ex-number 9, Nina, and ex-number 15, me. Eventually other warriors started trickling in; tired of endless fighting and no pay further south. Sometimes they brought refugees with them: men, women and even children."

"So how many people is there now Miss Mayor?"

Nadia smiled, "Well, including your group of five, that makes five hundred and three now."

* * *

The next morning found Nadia handing them keys to separate rooms at another inn, this one recently refurbished. Helen had disappeared in the company of two different men in the previous night, and they'd found her the next morning via echolocation. Or rather, figuring out where the clashing sound of swords was coming from. Both men, it turned out, were boyfriends to silver-eyed girlfriends. The two girlfriends, looking to be in their late teens, had decided to challenge Helen to a duel.

Helen, a far more experienced warrior, was on the verge of knocking both unconscious when Miria had intervened. After a short, awkward interrogation later, Helen had admitted the crime, and soon was put to work doing community service work under Nadia's watchful eyes as penance. Compared to Helen, few of the men had approached her, although the same could not be said of Natalie or Renee especially. Tabitha had few approaches, perhaps due to her intimidating maturity compared to the younger girls.

After a few days of not much ado, Miria finally settled down and selected the position of blacksmith. She was an apprentice to an older man named Heinrich, who had a graying beard and massive limbs. Things were rather awkward sometimes, as Heinrich liked to snatch glances of her chest when he thought she wouldn't notice. Eventually though she finished her apprenticeship, and was able to work on her own putting up a modest metal smith's workshop to get started.

The time had passed more quickly than Miria had expected, and already it had been a month since they'd arrived. Helen had become a farmer, and was regularly getting into spats with the farmwives over "allegations" that she'd slept with their husbands. Renee had become a clerk, as she could read and write very well. Tabitha had become a butcher, and despite the evident interest of several men, didn't show the slightest desire to return their affections. Natalie, scared of setting off on her own, had instead helped Miria put up the metal smith in an abandoned building on the town square.

Miria was hammering a wooden beam into place to properly support the dilapidated roof when a man in white robes came in through the open door. Natalie was below and working on applying mortar to some bricks to reinforce the building's foundations. There was no second floor proper, but instead Miria was standing upon a large horizontal support beam looking down at him.

The priest looked at Natalie, confused, as evidently he'd expected someone rather more impressive than a petite teenage warrior.

"Excuse me, but are you Captain Miria?"

Miria sighed and dropped down dramatically, causing the middle-aged, bald priest in white robes to jump in surprise.

"I'm Captain Miria, technically just a blacksmith-in-the-making, how can I help you Father?"

The man recovered his poise, though he looked nervous as Natalie looked on in curiosity.

"I was sent to deliver to you this message on behalf of the Rabona Orthodox Church...Captain," he added, looking doubtfully at her blacksmith apron, as well as Natalie's simple brown work tunic.

He handed her a scroll of parchment, and Miria began reading. She stopped and looked at him again.

"Who got you to me?"

"I was helped by Sister Galatea, god bless her soul," the priest explained.

"Is she here now?"

The priest shook his head, "No, she said she was needed more desperately in Rabona."

Natalie began looking very curiously at her.

"Natalie, go get Renee, Tabitha, and Helen and tell them to get dressed in their fighting outfits."

Natalie looked bewildered. "Yes, but why?"

"We may be going to war."

* * *

The mayor's office was jammed full of every silver-eyed warrior in Pieta, all thirty-two of them dressed in their best navy-blue leather combat outfits and armed with their enormous claymores. A number of the boyfriends and husbands were crowding around the outside of the warriors' circle. Miria held out the parchment and immediately a hush of interested whispering cut off as all the warriors, even Nadia, directed their eyes to her.

"As you know, I am Captain Miria, leader of the rebels that destroyed the Organization. I brought you here in full combat gear because of the message I have just received from Father Belluco," she declared.

Miria motioned to the nervous, bald Father Belluco in his white robes, who nodded to the assembly of what no doubt to him appeared the most terrifying women he'd ever lain eyes on.

"Let me put this plainly to all of you. The city of Rabona, the only civilized city and government left on the entire island, has been attacked and is now under siege."

A storm of whispering and muttering ripped through the room in waves. Miria looked back down at the parchment as the discussion began in earnest.

"Rabona has been besieged by a robber baron who is styling himself as King Charles, King of Toulouse. He has an army of 10,000 men besieging Rabona, and Father Belluco has informed me Rabona's citizens will not be able to hold out without starving for more than two months. As such, the Rabona Orthodox Church's Holy Council decided to ask for our assistance in order to lift the siege."

One girl, who had her white hair put up in a waist-long braided ponytail, held her hand up.

"But why should we help? It seems to me if he captures Rabona, he'll be able to end all the lawlessness in Toulouse," she reasoned.

"That seems like a reasonable thing to say if the man hadn't sacked three towns...what was your name again?"

"Virginia," the tall girl stated firmly.

"But you see Virginia," Miria explained, "the man took the women and children into slavery, allowed his men to rape the women before doing so, and killed all the men in each town. I ask you, do you wish for that to happen to the citizens of Rabona?"

"No, but how are we supposed to take on 10,000 men all on our own? We're not armored properly for the task, and I doubt most of us could win outnumbered by more than thirty to one. Eventually somebody will shoot you in the head with an arrow, and then what? It's not like we can replace our ranks like in the old days," Virginia countered.

Nina stepped forward, her ponytail waving around as Nina swung her head back and forth, looking over the gathered warriors, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired of being a seamstress. I don't want to sew for the rest of my life, I want to fight!"

A good deal of jeering countered Nina's simplistic speech, at while Nadia's head shook in disagreement.

Nadia asked, "What are we supposed to do once we get there Captain Miria?"

"The Rabona Orthodox Church has promised us paid positions as officers in the Rabona Holy Guards," Miria announced.

A veritable storm of argument broke out in the next second.

"Quiet, quiet," Nadia yelled out over them, quieting them a bit.

"I don't see how it concerns us," Virginia remarked.

"It concerns us because this self-styled King Charles has said he will conquer the whole of this island, including the northern lands of Alphonse," Miria declared. "Warriors, this is the biggest chance of our lives since the Organization's defeat for us to make a real difference. I say we fight!"

A roar of approval broke out from some warriors, while Nadia hid her eyes with a hand.

"But what if Rabona just reverts to its old ways and doesn't help anyone outside its walls like they always have?"

"Look Virginia," Miria said, exasperated, "I can assure you, that this time we won't be letting Rabona get away with not owning up to its responsibilities. Now who's with me?"

Despite anxieties of boyfriends and husbands, the thunder of applause was nearly unanimous.


	3. Chapter 2: The Siege of Rabona

**Chapter 2: The Siege of Rabona**

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* * *

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**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**The city-state of Rabona was founded in 631 b.l.e, or 631 years before the liberation era. The city grew slowly at first until a priest claimed that the twin sisters Teresa and Claire had ascended to heaven as angels from the city's center. Pilgrims flocked in, and the Rabona Orthodox Church was founded afterwards in 605 b.l.e. From this point on Rabona was a theocratic state, its laws shaped by the church, its military under the church's direct control, and all taxes being collected by the church.**

**Politically Rabona remained much the same until...**

**

* * *

**

"Valencia," Renee said to the claymore next to her, "can I borrow that hand telescope of yours for a moment?"

"Oh, well sure," Valencia agreed.

Valencia handed over the small bronze hand telescope with care to her.

They were on the edge of the forest just northeast of Rabona looking down on a sizable part of the encircling enemy encampment. A small "sea" of white tents, complete with laundry lines and campfires, was a mere half mile away. They were concealed by the forest edge, which hid them in the shade from daylight. Valencia was her subordinate, a fact about which it was still taking Renee some getting used to.

Valencia was one of the five "scouts" Miria had assigned to her to gather information on the enemy siege around Rabona. Renee had gone on ahead of the main body of claymores since they left Pieta with the five scouts, Valencia, the veteran scout Josephine, Cantarella, Richetta, and Alexandra. They had moved quickly, running or jogging towards Rabona at good speed for twenty hours a day. It had taken only three days to catch their first glimpse of the city's walls from a ford in the slow-moving Toulouse River north of the city.

Rabona, as Father Belluco's note had said, was under siege on all sides. The city had gotten some respite due to its well-placed location, as it was protected on its western, southwestern and northwestern sides by the wide Toulouse River. On the city's other sides, its four-story city walls were met by flat, previously cultivated plains. Three large stone bridges led to immense gatehouses on the city's western side, where its walls bordered the Toulouse River. There were two other immense gatehouses, one on the city's eastern side, and an identical one on its southern side.

Given the immensity of the city's size, Renee and her scouts thought the five thousand men besieging it seemed a cruel joke until Valencia's hand telescope showed the city's defenses to be badly undermanned.

Renee took another glance at the city's walls in the hand telescope and found them mostly bare except for sentries every several hundred feet watching the enemy camp.

"This is just ridiculous," Renee commented.

"What is?"

Renee turned to Valencia with a graven face, "If I remembered reading the old Organization maps right, the city is 4 miles, north-south, and 3 miles, east-west, and roughly rectangular. From what I'm seeing it looks like they've got about 1000 men to defend fourteen miles of walls. Bishop Vincent may be a nice guy, but he's paying for being so cheap. If they'd put Miria in charge, this never would have happened."

"I think you're overestimating our captain, but I agree she would never be this incompetent," Valencia replied.

"Oh come on Valencia-"

Valencia turned to consider Renee, Valencia's massive hair bun on top of her head scarcely moving, "Captain Miria isn't some magic person who can solve everything Lieutenant."

Renee felt like she'd been both slapped and somehow given a life lesson.

"Well, no, she's not magic, but she is very competent," Renee reasoned.

"Well, at least we know we'll win if we can get inside the walls," Valencia sighed.

"Are you a Miria skeptic or a Miria believer?"

Thin, short Valencia flashed Renee a smile, "Hey, I want to believe we'll win, don't you? Besides, once we win, I'm on the prowl for a hubby. I hear this place is loaded with guys better than half the trash back in Pieta."

Renee offered her shorter comrade a quizzical expression, "Hubby?"

"Husband," Valencia smiled. "I always wanted a man of my own. Don't get me wrong, Alexandra is a nice roommate, but she's a complete slob. If I have a husband, instead of coming back to a pigsty, I'll be greeted by him, dinner on the table, and the house clean."

"Actually Valencia," Renee cautioned, "I'm pretty sure marriage is the other way around."

"Really? I always got a different impression from when I was a tavern prostitute," Valencia said, shamelessly, and oblivious of Renee's incredible discomfort with the subject.

"Basically they all wanted me to strap on tight leather and a little armor, have a whip in my hand, tell them they'd been "very naughty boys" and that I was there to administer their punishment. Of course it was a little weird that some of them liked me whipping them a lot, but I guess guys tend to like girls who dominate them in the house and bedroom," Valencia reasoned.

Renee knew what a lost cause it would be to convince Valencia that social norms were the exact opposite, given Valencia's prior work in fulfilling bizarre male fantasies. Renee decided to change the subject back the far less stressful matter at hand.

"They're doing some interesting formation maneuvers down there," Renee noted, looking through the telescope at a mixed formation bordered by pikemen and fortified in the center by archers.

Valencia's mind however seemed utterly fixated on a different matter, "Say Renee, what kind of husband would you want?"

"Wha?"

Valencia's long face smiled, "How about Galk? I'd bet he's got a huge penis! Can you imagine what it'd be like riding him? Of course, I wouldn't know, but you'd be interested in a hot guy like him, right? Alright fine, so maybe you don't want Galk. Just try to think about when you last slept with a guy. What was the one thing about him you found most enjoyable?"

Even if it were possible to be any more embarrassed, it probably wouldn't have dissuaded the shameless Valencia, Renee thought. She bit her lip and tried to focus back on doing a final bit of scouting before the long trek back to Miria's camp.

Valencia foiled this however by walking in front of the hand telescope.

"So? Are you into rich guys, military guys, or the craftsmen sort?"

"Valencia," Renee warned, to little effect.

"Or perhaps," Valencia said, smirking, "you've got no libido and have never slept with a man?"

"Shit," Renee murmured, ignoring Valencia to observe the drills the mixed pikemen-archer square was doing, "it looks like they are prepared for us."

"Oh, well, that," Valencia sighed as they watched the pikemen form a protective wall of pikes while the archers shot overhead into the sky, "I saw that this morning."

"Then why didn't you report it to me?"

"I forgot," Valencia admitted.

"Well don't," Renee lectured, waving a hand, "our lives are counting on knowing our enemy, not whether or not I'm a virgin."

"Ah so you are, aren't you?"

As Renee took off running towards camp, she was never quite as glad of her speed as then, since even slim Valencia couldn't hope to keep pace with her on the way back.

* * *

"It's just like the priest said Captain Miria," Renee noted, looking over at Miria earnestly. "There are five thousand enemy troops besieging the city of Rabona and another five thousand troops are holding positions further to the west. They wouldn't be able to get to Rabona in in less than two days. But that means if we don't lift the siege shortly after arriving, it's going to be a lot harder to hold on. This king has the bulk of his forces surrounding Rabona on its east and southern walls. Roughly seventy percent of those forces are pure infantry, but the other thirty percent are more troublesome."

Renee was standing before her, Nadia, Helen, Nina, and Virginia underneath a large white tent, which Nadia had gotten a day prior from a stealthy raid into a camp of bandits. Miria along with the others were all sitting, their backs against their swords, the swords embedded in the mossy ground.

"What is the point of even having a 'War Council?" Nina sneered. "We're talking about humans here, not mass formations of Yoma."

The impromptu War Council was at night, the campfire outside the tent giving light to their meeting high in the hills above the besieging army. With most of the rest of the warriors either asleep, on perimeter watch, or out scouting, they were able to meet without much outside interference. The lone exception to this was the excitable 16-year-old Natalie, who was peering in from outside.

"What we're talking about, Nina," Renee countered, her voice thick with condescension, "is the problem of countering archers and cavalry.

"So what if they're archers," Nina sneered. "Once we close in on the archers, the fight's over."

Renee rebutted, "The problem with archers in particular besides dodging their shots is dodging the shots you cannot see coming. Even Captain Miria doesn't go running straight into massed volleys of arrows and think she can dodge them all," Renee explained, leaving Nina looking embarrassed.

"But there's thirty-two of us," Helen gently pointed out. "Surely thirty-two warriors can win against a mere five thousand men."

"Look, even if it's only five thousand men, we still can't lift the siege on our own," Nadia noted. "Partly-awakened warriors like us may do great at slaughtering countless numbers of Yoma, but we're not equipped for this sort of fight. The best most of us warriors can do without armor is probably winning 30:1 fights. That means at best we could handle around a thousand altogether."

"Oh please," Nina scoffed. "We could slice any of those bastards in half before they could even hit us. I'd bet we can take them at a 100:1 odds. Hell, if we can kill monsters like awakened beings, why not any human that crosses us? We're practically invulnerable in combat against humans."

"This isn't like one of your hallowed Yoma hunts Nina," the white-haired Virginia countered, sitting directly opposite Nina in the circle of silver-eyed comrades. "We can kill bandits as easily as we did because they move in loose formations and without discipline. Attacking a massed infantry formation head on is something entirely different."

"God I miss the old days. All you had to care about was killing Yoma and awakened beings and surviving through your swords skills," Nina reminisced.

"So you'd prefer dying as someone else's research project," Miria interjected, startling both Virginia and Nina, who evidently had not expected their captain to be vocal.

Nina looked over at her, sobered, "Look Captain Miria, it's not as if I'm not grateful to you saving my life and those of my comrades. It's just that I like things simple..."

"There was nothing simple about what the Organization was actually doing Nina," Virginia reminded Nina. "Besides, after the Organization fell, we did exactly what you wanted. If there are any left, there's probably no more than a dozen on the entire island. There is no going back to massed hunts for Yoma or Awakened Beings, Nina."

Virginia looked to Miria as she finished, expecting her captain to speak, as did the others. Miria sighed, and then rose to her feet.

"We've got a camp a mere three miles north of Rabona's northern walls, and a mile from the northern pickets of King Charles' army. What we need to do is to get into Rabona and reinforce them there, since we haven't a chance of defeating the enemy army on our own in a week," Miria declared loudly, which was in contrast to her internal doubts.

"I still say we hit these bastards besieging Rabona head on. We'll break their lines with all thirty-two of us at once," Nina boldly proposed. "Then we'll run to the gates and they can let us in. They'll never be expecting it."

"If you believe that fairy-tale then you're an idiot," white-haired Virginia snapped back. "The enemy army knows we're coming, and it has hundred of archers just waiting for us to charge. They'll be protected by mass formations of pikemen and heavy infantry. The only way to get to the archers is through a hellish number of arrow volleys and a wall of pikes. Let me ask you Nina, how many arrows through your brains have you survived?"

"I don't see how arrows as projectiles are any different from flying Awakened projectiles," Nina rebutted, albeit shortsightedly.

"So then," Virginia leaned forward, grinning, "What happened on that little northern lands' hunting expedition I heard about?"

After hearing this a number of the other girls began laughing, but they stopped when Nina's temper found a martial outlet. Nina grabbed her sword's handle, with Virginia matching her, but each stopped short of drawing their weapons. It seemed they were stalemated by being surrounded by the other warriors.

"The first one of you to draw their blade I'll knock unconscious for the evening," Miria threatened both Nina and Virginia. "Put your hands off the hilts NOW."

Nina and Virginia hastily dropped their hands and sat back down.

"While I'm Captain any petty fighting will be severely punished, understood ladies?"

"Yes Captain Miria," they both glumly acknowledged.

With their apologies to her done, Miria turned to Renee, "Lieutenant Renee, why don't you give us the layout of city and how best to approach it."

Renee brought forward a small lantern and a small wooden stool, then took out a small, hand-drawn map in the dim light. Virginia took the lantern from Renee and hung it high above, thus affording everyone the chance to see the map clearly. Renee spread the map across the stool, its edges just barely dangling off.

Miria's first glance confirmed what she'd long remembered about Rabona, although the scale was larger; all of the city's walls and interior were measured in miles. Its population was sustained by a large river flowing down from the northern mountains, which the map showed perfectly. The Toulouse River brushed up against the city walls in the north, and then curved to the west and around the city. The river continued its gentle flow along the city's western walls, its course interrupted by several immense stone bridges across its much smaller width there. It continued past Rabona, curving a little to the east along fortified southern edge before moving straight south.

"Captain Miria, our best option is here in the north," Renee pointed with a leather-gloved hand, "There's small side door in the northern walls of Rabona near the Toulouse River. If we can cut through the lines fast enough and make it across the shallow part of the river near there, we can get to the door," Renee explained. "Provided they don't double the number of soldiers near it," Renee added.

Nadia asked, "What if they should have it locked and we can't break it down?"

Miria spoke up over her subordinates, "We could scale the wall with ladders, and chop them down when everyone is atop the walls."

"How are we supposed to make it through an enemy camp towing ladders Captain?" Virginia seemed to be probing her captain's reasoning, and was no longer laying backside against her claymore.

"We'll have to get Miata then," Miria truthfully admitted. "Miata will be more than enough besides me to distract and take down the enemy soldiers in the way."

Nadia scoffed, "No one's seen Miata, Yuma or Clarice after they left for the eastern lands of Burgund two years ago. We need to find them before the enemy becomes aware of their missing pickets we've been killing for information, and it could take weeks to find them."

Virginia asked, "Besides that, who do we have that we can afford to send off looking for them?"

Miria stared at Virginia in answer.

"No way, I couldn't," Virginia protested.

"You won't be going alone. I'll be sending along Tabitha with you, but even if she's equal to Renee as a yoki detector, she'll need your tracking skills to find them."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I'm ordering you to do it," Miria explained, dominating Virginia through force of persona. "Oh don't give me that look Virginia, you agreed to come on this expedition under my command. You can either desert the expedition-or you can follow my orders, now which is it?"

Virginia subsided, her insubordination gone, and then merely nodded in agreement.

Nina asked, "What about the other approaches to the city?"

Nina pointed to the three western gates, all of which were connected to bridges over the Toulouse River. Nina also pointed to the main southern gate, which was guarded by a massive gatehouse, judging by Renee's map, as was the eastern wall's only gate.

"We shouldn't try them if we're counting on all of us surviving," Renee answered firmly. "In the east and south there are 2100 infantry soldiers to bog us down, six hundred archers to shoot us once we're bogged down, and another 300 cavalrymen to run us down. We will not be able to get anywhere near Rabona from those directions," Renee explained, pointing to the map.

"What about hitting them from the west and making a run for the bridges," Nadia suggested.

"There are some four hundred cavalrymen stationed west of the river bridges, not to mention 3 companies of pikemen protecting 3 companies of archers," Renee answered.

"Damn," Nadia and Nina cussed together.

"Even in the north," Renee added to further dampen their spirits, "there are five hundred troops who they can easily reinforce. We'd be walking into a turkey-shoot if we don't get over the walls before their archers get us in range."

"Is there any better option to the side door on the northern wall, Lieutenant Renee?"

Renee shook her head, "I'm sorry Captain Miria, but there's no easy way into the city."

Miria pondered the map as her second-in-command Renee fretted next to her. Miria's eyes abruptly noticed a canal running from the river into the center of Rabona's north, and another emptying out of it in the center of its southern walls.

"This canal," Miria pointed out, "could we possibly build canoes and float into Rabona?"

* * *

The plan to float into the city was agreed upon by both the War Council and the remaining warriors to be the best option they had. To avoid being hit by the archers camping in the woods on either bank, Miria had decided to run under the safety of night. She'd immediately sent Nadia and two other warriors north to Pieta to gather the necessary supplies to build the canoes they'd need. Another two days had passed as Renee continued to scout out the enemy's positions. At last Nadia had arrived and tasked those warriors not scouting on hastily chopping down trees.

Miria was observing the work along the forested river bank when Helen came walking over, looking furious. Helen's short face was contorted in a mask of ugly jealousy.

"What the hell is this Miria? You made Renee the senior Lieutenant, and now you put even Nadia above me as the junior Lieutenant?"

Helen was wearing her sword, but hadn't resorted to grabbing it to challenge Miria. This restraint in Helen's temper was surely motivated by the knowledge that she was by far the inferior fighter. Helen challenging her would only have meant a painful and embarrassing defeat.

"Let me explain this to you clearly Helen. Over the past two years since Deneve died, you have done well as a warrior. But your inability to stop philandering, even with the men whom other warriors are seeing, is behavior unworthy of an officer," Miria stated loud enough to be overheard by the two dozen warriors working on the canoes.

Several looked over as they heard Miria's reprimanding of Helen.

"Oh, so my morals don't please you, is that it?"

Helen was yelling, jolting the nearby warriors, all of them turning to see the scene.

"Your morals wouldn't be a problem if they didn't cause conflict with other warriors, but an officer is supposed to command respect. Why would any warrior follow your commands when you've been seducing their boyfriend?"

Helen didn't answer, but merely sulked at these words as Nadia coaxed many of the warriors back to work.

"You are indeed a great fighter Helen, perhaps the second-best I have behind Renee. If you want to become an officer, you'll be given your chance once we get into Rabona," Miria explained, hoping to soothe Helen somewhat. "This is not like the Northern War Helen; I will not be assigning officer positions solely on strength anymore. Nor will I be handing key positions of command to someone who has difficulty following my orders."

"Ah come on sis," Helen gaped, "It was one goddamn time!"

"I also don't like officers who lie," Miria noted, "I know you've disobeyed me on no fewer than a dozen occasions Helen, sometimes to the detriment of your own safety. What kind of captain would I be if I promoted a girl who recklessly ignored orders and put others in danger?"

Helen merely gave her an unhappy look and went off to sulk along the wooded river bank.

"Well that was a tad harsh of you Captain Miria," a voice sighed behind her.

Miria turned around to find Renee, beads of sweat forming on Renee's forehead, her previously neat rows of braided hair now slightly unkempt. Renee looked as if she'd just run a great distance at high speed, which considering the circumstances, was quite likely.

"Helen needs it Renee," Miria remarked, watching Helen join her comrades building the canoes, "There are times when older sisters have to give 'tough love' to their errant siblings. Now then, what's your latest scouting report?"

* * *

Miria had joined in with Nadia hacking, cutting, sawing, and sanding the canoes into shape. By dusk they had six wooden canoes, each large enough to haul six warriors safely. But the wooden paddles to move and steer them were not yet complete. Miria was sanding down one almost complete paddle upon a makeshift wooden table when Natalie, covered in blood, had rushed into camp with her sword drawn.

"We've got problems Captain Miria," Natalie yelled, the jet-black Cid the cat hanging on for dear life on her back.

Miria dropped the paddle upon the table.

"What is it?"

Natalie dropped to her knees before her, and a quick glance was enough to tell it wasn't Natalie's blood sprayed across her uniform.

"Did I not specifically tell you not to engage the enemy?"

"I'm sorry Captain, but I couldn't help but try scouting around, and I got surprised by two cavalry scouts of theirs," Natalie groveled, prostrating before her.

"This is unacceptable Natalie. I gave you a direct order to stand guard, and you disobeyed!"

Natalie began crying, "But I heard them building something in the woods, and I went to see, and then they surprised me. I managed to kill the one, but the other got away."

"Dammit Natalie, do you see now why I didn't send you out scouting?"

"But I saw what they were building Captain! They had these huge wooden towers on wheels, and they were covering them in wet animal skins," Natalie explained, sobbing.

Nadia and Renee came forward, as the rest of the warriors had stopped working.

"Those have got to be siege towers," Nadia noted. "He'll be attacking Rabona with the whole force within days then."

"Never mind the whole force, I can smell horses already," Renee informed them.

"So he's bringing out the cavalry to deal with us, is he, now that Natalie's given us away?"

They turned to see Nina smiling malevolently.

"We cannot afford to engage in a massed fight with his cavalry. We'll have to get into the city tonight," Miria informed Nina, Nadia, Renee and the other warriors in ear shot.

Renee asked an awkward question, "Captain Miria, I hate to bring this up, but isn't that canal of yours closed off above and below the water by a steel gate?"

"Well, could we cut through it Renee?"

Renee shook her head, "Maybe, but it'd take awhile, and the current along that canal is very fast. The canoes would smash themselves into the gate under the walls. We might all end up drowning if the gate isn't raised."

"Then someone should get into the city and raise the gate for us," Nina declared.

"How? They'd have to run through several hundred soldiers, many of them archers, and manage to jump over city walls four stories high," Nadia objected.

Miria held up a hand, grinning as she did so, and they ceased speaking.

"I think I know one girl who might be able to do that," Miria noted.

They all stared at her.

Natalie figured it out first, "Wait, Captain Miria, you can't!"

"I don't think we have any choice in this. The only one of us who has the speed and jumping ability to pull this off for sure is me," Miria stated to universally dismayed looks.

* * *

"This is crazy Miria," Renee whispered, crouched next to her behind some riverbank bushes. They were hiding from the patrols of enemy cavalry, many of whom they'd dodged on their way south to just within sight of Rabona's walls. To their right was the large, slow-moving Toulouse River; to their left was a dense forest.

"I didn't ask you to see me off Renee," Miria jabbed, "You really ought to get back to the others now. In about two minutes I'm going to be running towards the wall and scaring up every archer you could shake your fist at. You don't want to be around when I jump the wall."

Renee flinched at the word 'jump', then handed her a pair of gold-gilded gauntlets, "Nadia wanted to give you those, she says they're lucky gauntlets that'll protect your hands and fate," Renee explained.

Miria took the gauntlets, clipped them on around her wrists, and looked at them. They covered the back of her hand, her wrist, and most of her lower arms.

"Well they're nice, I'll give Nadia that, but I'm not as superstitious as she is. Tell her thanks when you get back to the others. Once I'm over the wall, I'll raise my yoki, and that will be your signal to launch the canoes," Miria explained.

"Right," Renee said, looking at her as if she was about to lose her.

"Would you quit being so fatalist Renee, jumping a four-story fortified wall isn't out of my league," Miria reassured her lieutenant.

"If you say so," Renee responded, sounding unconvinced. "I'll get going."

Renee crept off, and then with a swish of air, she was gone at high speed.

"I wish I was as confident about doing this as I told Renee," Miria mumbled to herself. "If I make this jump, even Claire would be amazed."

Miria could make out the city walls of Rabona silhouetted against the moon as she crept along the river bank under cover of night. All around her were numerous soldiers, many of whom were on guard duty. The river bank was awkward to run across, with numerous bushes, hidden rocks, and trees obstructing her way. While they hindered her speed, they helped in camouflaging her movements.

She stopped behind a large bush, the river rushing past to her right, and the enemy encampment beginning to her left. Numerous voices filtered over the river as well, and lanterns and campfires visible there confirmed the troop presence Renee had mentioned. Miria glanced over the bush to find an open floodplain full of soldiers, most asleep but others walking about with lanterns on guard duty. The whinnying of horses was also audible.

There was no cover from detection for a good half mile, and so Miria prepared herself for the sprint. The thud of hooves upon dirt to her left surprised her, and abruptly, trotting through the woods galloped a young soldier on horseback armed with a lantern and spear. He saw her, and immediately sounded the alarm.

"They're here! There's a claymore here!"

The soldier immediately galloped towards the safety of his camp. Other soldiers began running out of their tents, and she noticed several archers among them. A small group of 20 infantrymen was forming up nearby, and soon advanced in her direction with pikes and lanterns.

"I guess there's no helping it," Miria muttered.

Miria jumped over the bush and began picking up stride. The infantrymen rushed to engage her, and in doing so allowed her mobility to outdo them. She dodged under one swing of a sword, and then jumped dozens of feet over most of the rest. Before landing, Miria descended foot-first onto the head of a swordsman. She kicked off with ease, knocking him over.

Cries of "shoot her!" rang out from the infantry Miria left behind. Some half dozen archers with war bows began taking aim. She picked up speed and kept low as they drew feathered arrows to their bowstrings. They were having trouble keeping with her pace, and their shots whizzed past, far behind her. But other noises were now audible behind her, and one was the thundering of hooves.

She spared a glance behind to confirm her worst fears: a group of ten horsemen, armed with spears and bows was rushing up behind her. Miria lengthened her stride, picking up speed. The horse archers' bows began to twang, as arrows lodged into the ground left and right of her. The horse archers evidently were in range of her, which pushed her to pick up to her top speed.

A glance back, as the walls of Rabona loomed ever nearer in the moonlight, confirmed the horse archers had fallen behind. Miria gathered her breath as she entered the final few hundred feet of the approach. She made one small jump, followed by a larger leap, and then she pushed off. Miria realized as she soared high into the air that it wasn't going to be high enough to top the wall. Instead, she realized the jump would land her body upon the wall's fortified parapet. Worse, her speed was too great, and the impact would hit her square on the torso.

She hit the wall's parapet with a terrible jolt, her hands managed to gain purchase on the parapet, although her breath had been knocked from her body. The stone was crumbling under her grip in her right hand. Miria was holding onto the side of the wall with only her right hand, and scrambled to gain a grip with her left hand. She swung herself up to grab the wall with her left hand at its top, and found herself nearly hit by an arrow. It clanged uselessly off the wall instead, but made her perhaps too frantic, and she missed grabbing onto the wall.

"Shit."

Miria tried again, and just in time as her right hand's grip finally failed. Once again she was dangling four stories off the ground holding on with one hand, enemy archers closing in.

"Who goes there?"

It was a male voice above her in a distinctive Rabonese accent.

"Over here, I need help," Miria called out.

"Who is that?"

The voice called out, passing her by, evidently not seeing her.

"Captain Miria," she gasped, coughing up blood as she finished. She began hacking, and her grip was lessening despite her best efforts to get her coughing under control.

"A claymore?"

"Help her up immediately!"

A pair of hands grabbed her left hand and pulled her up, gasping and coughing up blood, up over the parapet and onto the wall's top. Miria blinked, and then looked up. Two soldiers in beautiful, full-body plate-mail armor were standing next to her. Their faces were barely visible in the moonlight, although she doubted she could recognize either from her days defending Rabona.

Another soldier's voice called out, "Get Captain Murat here immediately!"

Lantern light rushed over to her as some hushed conversation broke out amongst the soldiers. A soldier with a large mustache helped her to her feet as her fit of coughing blood subsided.

"Are you it?"

The soldier who asked looked rather disappointed in seeing only her.

"Of course not," Miria replied. "I came ahead of the others. We need you to open the gate protecting the opening of the Rabona canal. They're coming within the hour, so we need to hurry."

"Well, you had better see one of the captains about that," the mustached guard answered.

Suddenly there was a flurry of armored footsteps, and a young officer with curly black hair stepped forward with two soldiers behind him with lanterns. "I see god has seen to provide us help from these blasphemers," he commented.

"Captain Miria," he bowed low, holding his plumed helm in one hand, "it is such an honor to finally meet the leader of Rabona's saviors personally. We had not had much hope of Father Belluco managing to track you and your companions down. Speaking of which, where are the others?"

* * *

"Renee," Natalie bugged her, "can we go yet?"

"No, now get out of the canoe," Renee told Natalie, who had prematurely boarded her boat.

Natalie got out looking filled with nervous energy, much like the twenty seven other silver-eyed warriors besides them who were pacing around, nerves on end.

"I can sense her right around the edge of the city, so she's alive, and probably inside since she's still alive," Renee said optimistically.

They were encamped along a rocky beach, with the six canoes lined up, ready to go, their crude paddles stuffed within them. Helen was sitting on the last of the canoes, her five subordinates watching the distant silhouette of Rabona. It was visible just barely above the river's horizon, which was luminous in the moon's light.

"Where are Tabitha, Virginia, Yuma, Miata and Clarice?"

Renee turned to find Natalie looking glum.

"I don't know, but we have to leave without them Natalie. Rabona needs our help, and..."

The ground began rumbling with the crash of hooves and within the forest Renee could make out the vaguest of movements. Within seconds two dozen horsemen charged into the clearing, all of them halting upon seeing the twenty-nine silver-eyed warriors in opposition.

"About damn time," Nina enthusiastically laughed. "I was getting tired of waiting."

Several more horsemen began wandering into the clearing, but their numbers were scarcely equal to the warriors opposing them. One cavalryman, armored with a breastplate, mail shirt, an open-faced helmet, and great sword came forward, particularly daring.

"If you surrender now, I will endeavor to ask my father to spare your lives," the man said with incredible machismo.

"You've got some nerve threatening us," Nina sneered. "Asking silver-eyed warriors to surrender when you humans have us equaled in numbers takes some gall, boy."

He abruptly rushed back to his horse and the men backed off a little ways. But at that precise moment Renee felt a surge of yoki energy far to the south: Miria's.

"That's the signal, now let's go!"

Nina reluctantly turned her back to the horsemen and walked to her canoe, her sword still drawn. Most of the girls rushed to the canoes, edging them into the river as the captains held their swords drawn, retreating slowly.

"Don't let them escape," the horsemen's commander shouted, and as one they rushed forward. But it was too late, and the captains had all jumped into their canoes. The horses stopped in the shallows, one even managing to fire off an errant arrow, which flew far past all of them. They passed out of sight quickly, while horns erupted in alarm along the riverfront.

They had little warning of what happened next, as five shadows made a jump in front of them straight into the middle of the river. They hit the river with tremendous splashes, no doubt adding to the enemy's alarm, Renee thought. The five people were swimming towards them, against the current. Natalie, the furthest forward, drew her sword.

"Wait Natalie, its Tabitha and the others," Renee yelled, having recognized Tabitha's yoki.

A girl with long blond hair, struggling mightily to keep afloat under the weight of her sword, swam near. Renee reached out a hand and grabbed the girl with one arm. Natalie put away her sword and grabbed on as well. With a lurch they pulled the warrior aboard the canoe, where she coughed a little water out of her mouth.

The warrior had a strand of her long bangs crossing between her eyes, the rest of her blond hair falling straight down in a wet mess past her shoulders. Her eyes were colored the silver of a hybrid soldier, and her face, although not unattractive, was not distractingly beautiful. Recognition came after a moment, despite the low light.

"Yuma, you crazy bastard, what in the world were you thinking?"

Yuma cracked a smile, "I was just trying to keep up with Miata actually. If you ever catch me running through a dark forest ever again, be sure to smack me Renee."

"I'm just glad you're here Yuma," Renee sighed in relief.

Renee hugged Yuma a little before turning to see four other figures in the water pulled out. A warrior on Helen's boat grabbed Tabitha, Nadia grabbed Virginia, Nina's boat picked up what looked like a tall version of Miata, and Clarice was picked up by Alexandra's boat behind her. They scarcely had time to celebrate their reunion when Rabona's skyline began lighting up with fireballs. They were flying into the walls of the city and even over.

"That was damn convenient of you to get here now," Renee told Yuma.

"Yeah, about that Renee," Yuma said sheepishly, "Miata dragged us west from Burgund. She's in that stage of life you know," Yuma implied.

"What stage?"

"Puberty," Yuma whispered, looking over at where Clarice's canoe was. "Miata's discovered boys, so Clarice and I have been trying to keep her from acting on her crushes. She wants to 'bear hug' 'em, but a bear hug from Miata would probably kill a man. We came west after convincing her that there'd be lots of cute boys in Rabona if she promised to quit trying to bear hug them all," Yuma mentioned. "We were trying to figure out where Miria was so that she could help us manage her."

Clarice's voice shouted over, "Yuma, what are you talking about?"

"This might not be the best time to talk about that," Renee told Yuma, who merely smiled.

Up ahead two fireballs lifted into the air east of the city, their fiery paths taking them up over the thick city walls and into the urban area beyond.

"Damn," Renee muttered to Yuma, "They're trying to take the city before we even get there."

In another minute of travel they found the shores on either side were cleared of all but tree stumps. Several archers on either river bank spotted them immediately, quickly taking aim.

"Faster girls," Renee commanded.

They paddled quickly, and a few muffled screams broke out as arrows found their mark in Nina's boat. But a single volley was all the archers on either side were able to mount. The city came into view in a dramatic way: on all other sides but the one they approached enormous fireballs were coursing through the air from large siege machines. Parts of the outer city were already going up in flame, and further back to the east were the vague silhouettes of the siege towers Natalie had seen.

The current began picking up, and Renee angled the canoe as best she could upon seeing the canal's entrance. It was arched, with a large metal gate lifting up to offer safe passage to the city. The gate lifted out of the way barely in time, as she had to duck underneath as it continued rising. The others managed to follow Renee quite well, except for Nina's canoe, which barely managed to make it into the canal at first. The canal's current finally turned the canoe around and propelled Nina's crew into the dark tunnel beyond.

They emerged to see a long canal dividing a city neatly in half. Awkwardly though there was no immediate place to pull in, as even though the tunnel was gone, the canal's brick walls were too tall to jump. Finally the wall ended, and Renee found herself in a shallow harbor stretching out left and right. It had a low pier of stones to either side, and they pulled in alongside the right pier and jumped off.

They ran up the twin staircases to the city proper. All of them stopped upon seeing Miria standing before them, sword on her back, and torch raised above her head with one arm. Standing to Miria's left and right were four men, three of them taller, a pair on each side.

"Warriors," Miria addressed them, "we don't have the time for anything complex. These men here are the captains of the Rabona Holy Guards. You are to follow their orders unless I am on hand, understood?"

"Yes Captain Miria," they said loudly, voicing their collective agreement.

Renee looked at the men, much of their features only modestly revealed in the torchlight. She could hear the cries of women and sounds of battle to either side even as she did so. Miria pointed to the tallest man to her immediate left. He was armored head to foot in full plate mail, while upon his head was a helmet curved down from the top, a plume of white feathers mounted on top. The helmet had its visor raised, so that Renee could make out the man's face. It featured two long sideburns, although a scar on one side marred his proud appearance and attractive face.

"This is the Captain of the Guard, Francois Galacon," Miria introduced him. He bowed briefly as she did so, and then Renee recognized him.

"Galk?"

"This is no time for fraternizing Renee," Miria snapped.

"Sorry," Renee mumbled.

"To Captain Galacon's right is Captain van Willems," a name at which Helen gasped at.

"To my immediate left is Captain Malaga."

There was something maddeningly familiar about Malaga's height being the same as Miria's, but Renee couldn't quite place it. The other man to Captain Malaga's right was just over Miria's height, and held his helmet off to reveal an attractive mop of messy black hair.

"To Captain Malaga's right is Captain Murat," Miria instructed them as several girls began murmuring approvingly.

"Alexandra, Valencia, you will take the warriors in your canoes and follow Captain of the Guard Galacon to the eastern walls," Miria commanded. Two girls equal in height to Miria stepped forward, one distinguished by twin shoulder length pigtails, and the other was the hair bun-loving Valencia. Galk motioned them to follow them.

"Come on ladies, follow me!"

A dozen warriors ran after him, including pony-tailed Alexandra, red-haired Clarice, and large hair-bun wearing Valencia. They rounded a corner around some houses and vanished out of sight.

A girl roughly Tabitha's height, only wet and with long straight hair stepped forward.

"I want to go with my mother too," Miata complained.

"Miata," Captain Miria snapped, "Clarice can handle herself just fine against human opposition, so there's no need for you to protect her. Nina, you and the rest of your canoe, including Miata, will go with Captain Murat to the western walls."

Murat turned and they all followed, although Miata seemed to do so reluctantly.

"Helen and Nadia, you will take your groups and follow Captain Malaga to the southern walls."

Helen gave Miria a furtive glance as she followed behind curly-haired Nadia and out of sight.

"Renee, your group, including Yuma, will follow me with Captain Willems to the northeastern walls," Miria instructed.

Captain van Willems immediately set off at a good pace, racing past a shop to their right and then up a staircase and into the city's wall. They passed by a good dozen soldiers once they reached the third floor, which was lined with archer windows. Arrows and countless hand weapons were stacked all over as Miria and the much taller van Willems led the way.

After a good half minute of running, they reached another staircase and climbed up to find an awe-inspiring scene. They had hauled themselves up to the fourth and final floor of the massively thick walls just as a fireball sailed over them, illuminating nearly a quarter of Rabona. Renee ducked by instinct and turned to see it smash into a blacksmith, setting it ablaze after smashing its roof open.

"Shit," Renee cursed. She looked out onto the fields beyond the walls to find it awash in dark shapes moving under the light of torches. After a quick glance, she spotted what had shot the fireball.

"There, I see the onager," Renee pointed.

Miria and all the others looked where Renee was pointing. They looked several hundred feet away to see a large siege weapon mounted on four wheels. It had a single launching arm on its back, and this was tied to its central horizontal support post with a rope.

"Captain, they're in archer range," Miria noted. "Summon the archers!"

A line of more than forty archers in full plate armor ran up, and under Captain van Willems' command, unleashed a massed volley. There were a number of screams from the men manning the onager, but its launching arm was being lowered into position again despite this.

Renee looked at the onager, and then at the archers. Abruptly she noticed the torches a pair of Rabonese spear-men was carrying nearby. "Wait, I've got it! You need to attach as many of the torch swabs to the arrows as you can, put them on fire, and hit the onager with those."

"Yes," Captain Willems agreed, "Sergeant!"

A spearman came running down the wall, torch in hand. He saluted crisply.

"Sir?"

"Spread word to the other captains to get as many torch swabs as possible and use them to burn the enemy siege engines!"

The next few minutes were spent checking along the northeastern and eastern walls for enemy attacks, but finding none they turned to helping arm the archers properly. But by the time the flammable swabs arrived, they found a different situation.

The archers shrugged at Miria, "We're sorry Captain Miria, but they moved their onagers back just out of range."

"Just out of range? I'll see about that," Miria rebutted. "Give me your bow," she instructed the nearest archer.

He reluctantly did so, and Miria lifted the light weapon, attached a sticky flammable swab to an arrow, and turned to Renee. Renee was standing alongside Yuma, who just outranked Renee in height, as well as four younger warriors.

"Warriors, grab a bow and together we'll attempt a massed volley against that onager!"

The girls, having had no immediate fighting to do, eagerly accepted. The archers relieved of firing lit their arrows' flammable swabs, and at once they took aim and fired. Some of the girls had clearly never fired a bow before, and their flaming arrows fell far short. But roughly half of their arrows hit the target, setting it alight.

"That's more like it," a soldier yelled.

"Now quickly, we've got to hit the other ones!"

Within a short few minutes all the onagers in sight were aflame, and suddenly the battle changed. Advancing towards the wall were numerous infantrymen with ladders, but the archers on the wall were far too few to do anything more than slow their advance. Many soldiers fell, but they were soon replaced by others.

Miria rushed to a sparsely guarded section of the wall with Renee just as some eight different ladders landed upon the wall's parapet. Renee kicked one ladder off, the men upon it falling to their deaths. Five men leapt off ladders at once before Miria though. One soldier barred their way to her, but the nearest assailant simply swung down with his large battleaxe. Miria parried his blow and countered with her massive sword.

The soldier crumpled as its flat side smashed his helmet. Another enemy soldier leapt forward to attack Miria, but she was faster and slashed him across the chest. He immediately went down, and then she noticed Renee simultaneously decapitating two men to her right. Miria rushed forward to the four soldiers in front of her and jumped above them.

Miria flipped backwards in the air, and as she did so slashed downwards. The sword slashed through the helmets of two men, and they dropped dead, oozing blood from their split heads. Miria landed on her feet and swung backwards, slashing the other two soldiers nearly in half with a single slash at the waist.

The battle turned fast and furious, and Miria was surprised to feel a knife plunge into her belly. She found the battleaxe-wielding soldier from before still alive and grinning, but it wasn't for long. Miria decapitated him with a single downward slice and removed the knife, clenching her hand around the wound as she forcibly healed it with yoki.

"Behind you," Renee shouted, running towards her. Renee brought her blade up just as Miria turned around to find a swordsman slashing downwards. Renee's sword not only stopped the blow, but also knocked the sword into the air. The finishing part of Renee's upward sweep sliced through the man's mail shirt at the neck, and he went down spurting blood.

"Thanks Renee," Miria gasped, breathless.

The siege towers were rolling forward now, but their progress was halted prematurely by the confused retreat of the first assault wave of infantry. But as the towers rolled into the range of the archers, they refused to burn even after multiple volleys of flaming arrows.

"Shit," a sergeant cursed. "Those damn things are impervious to everything we can fling at them."

* * *

"Nina, what do you recommend?" Captain Murat asked her, looking in dismay at the approach of three siege rams towards Rabona's massive western gatehouse.

They were coming over the stone bridges towards the main western gate, and there were no reserves to stop an attack if the gate was breached. The siege rams were large, each as long, tall and wide as a small house, propelled within them by dozens of armored men. Nina could vaguely make out two other bridges to either side, each partly destroyed, rendering them useless in aiding an assault.

"They're made of wood aren't they, just fling torches down at them," Nina suggested to the powerfully built, fully-armored Murat, his plate armor glimmering in the torchlight.

Several of his men were with him, while the lone warrior accompanying Nina was the ungainly teen phenomenon, Miata, whose growth spurt was not yet accompanied by womanly features.

"We're out of those," Murat sighed, "and I need a few torches for my men to see by. I only have a hundred and fifty men to hold the western gatehouse. The only good news for our side is that this is the only place they can attack on the western side of the city. Where did the other warriors go?"

"My other warriors went south to help Nadia reinforce the southern walls, so you'll need to pull all your men back to the gatehouse. We'll pour boiling oil on the bastards' siege rams," Nina declared to much discomfort amongst Murat's men.

"I'm sorry, but that's out of the question," Captain Murat said, shaking his head. "The church's teachings outlaw the use of such weapons, for they are an abomination against god," Murat sighed.

"To hell with the church's teachings! Do you want the people of Rabona to die because of church teachings?"

Murat was quiet but firm, "I'm sorry Nina, but we are men of god, and we must obey god's representatives in this world."

"Well that's just great," Nina sneered, watching the first siege ram come up to the immense gate directly beneath them, "are we just going to sit here and wait for them to smash through?"

"I'll do everything I can," Murat insisted, "archers, open fire on the siege rams!"

It was a completely wasted effort, as the siege rams were covered in animal hides arranged over a thick, wooden, triangular-shaped structure. The archers had to focus on the trailing two siege rams, as these siege rams were somewhat open to the front and rear. A massed pair of volleys picked off several enemy soldiers in the less-protected trailing siege rams.

They were not missed long, as the siege rams quickly crossed the bridge, and then lined up to either side of the first siege ram. Nina could feel small vibrations through the stone of the immense gatehouse as the rams' heads were drawn back and successively smashed into the massive iron western gate. She grabbed a bow and began firing, but it was useless, and after nearly an hour of resistance, the first gate failed.

"Quickly, come down to the gatehouse interior," Murat called to her and Miata. They rushed down a narrow winding staircase after him, descending an aggravatingly long time, which made her realize just how high the gatehouse's 8-story towers really were. Murat exited the staircase, and Nina followed to find a bizarre scene.

Along the wall of the room were a number of narrow holes in the walls, through which she could see below to the stone floor of the gatehouse four stories below. Archers began rushing in as Murat led them up a small vertical staircase to another level. This level had a floor directly above the interior of the gatehouse, a number of strategic holes in the floor allowing her to see everything below.

They were evidently used for defense, as dozens of archers were gathered in the dimly lit room, a quartet of flaming torches mounted on four walls. The gatehouse's interior below them was bounded on one side by the ruined first gate and on the other side by its now-vital and untouched inner gate. King Charles' soldiers were still pushing aside the ruined remains of the bent first gate, which delayed the coming of the third ram.

"To hell with this," Nina said, seeing the first siege ram come within her throwing range. She rushed over to the nearest torch, tore it and the metal fastening it to the wall off, rushed back as Murat yelled something in the loud din, and then threw it down. It hit the siege ram square on, and for a moment she was optimistic as its flames licked against the roof of the siege engine. But as the seconds went by the siege ram kept moving, and then she noticed.

Murat came up next to her, "Tis a shame," he said, exasperated, "I'd have thrown every torch I had at them if they were flammable."

"They won't burn," Miata said, startling Nina. "The rams are covered in wet animal skins; I can smell them," Miata confided.

"So much for that then," Murat shouted over the din of angry soldiers cursing as they hurled stones and shot arrows upon the siege rams. A few arrows found their marks, but already Nina could see it would not be enough to stop the rams breaching the second gate.

An armored infantryman rushed into the room, breathless, "Captain Murat," he saluted, breathless, "I regret to report this, but the enemy's moving up all his infantry and archers."

"Shit," Murat cursed. He looked at them thoughtfully for a moment.

"What?"

Nina disliked the weird, thoughtful look he was giving Miata and herself.

"Can you jump down from this distance?" Murat asked with hopeful eyes.

"Well, not really, not onto stone, no," Nina admitted.

Miata frowned as the first siege ram began hammering the inner gate.

Nina spoke up, "Give us a little rope and we can jump right on top of the siege rams. You want us to destroy them I take it?"

"Yes," Murat acknowledged, then turned to a nearby soldier, "Sergeant, get these warriors as long a line of rope as you can, and get back here immediately."

The sergeant rushed out, and within a minute returned with four comrades carrying round bundles of rope. Nina tested it, and it was strong enough to hold her weight. The soldiers tied down the ropes under some heavy stones, and then a pair held the ropes just to be sure. Nina gripped the rope, and then leaned back at the floor's opening. The soldiers held the rope taut as Miata and Nina leaned out over two separate holes.

Nina nodded at Miata, "Let's go!"

They dropped down, scurrying down the rope to just short of the floor, and then jumped off.

Murat leaned over the opening above her, "Miata, Nina," he shouted, "Captain of the Guard Galacon says to destroy all the rams and opposition!"

"Ok," Miata shouted back as she brought her blade out.

Nina unsheathed her own immense claymore from her back scabbard, then ducked under a sword-cut from behind. Out of pure reflex she slashed backwards, felling a man with horrific consequences: his body was cut in two at the mid-chest. His remains dropped to the floor as a small horde of his comrades rushed into the gatehouse interior through the broken outer gate. The two siege rams were behind Nina, hammering away at the inner gate, and undoubtedly the men from the stranded third ram knew what she and Miata intended.

Nina charged towards the group when a horde of arrows tore into the three dozen men, felling all but a couple terrified survivors nearest her. She cut these down with a swift horizontal slice as she ran between them, their own sword movement not fast enough to touch her. Nina looked back and almost regretted doing so.

Miata was in battle frenzy, her blade spinning, twirling and chopping in a rotating field of death, carnage and debris. Limbs, blood, heads and wood flew in all directions as Miata dropped down into the ram's interior through the immense hole she'd carved through its roof. Nina rushed over to help when the ram simply collapsed in on itself. Miata jumped out in the nick of time as the screams of anguish came from the trapped men in its rubble.

The second ram was getting taken apart in similar fashion when enemy infantry began pouring into the gatehouse interior through the ruined outer gate. Nina turned to face them and give Miata enough time. She jumped over her foolish first attacker, who, armed with a battleaxe, thought he was going to take her singlehanded. Nina merely flipped over him, and as she did so, sliced downwards, cutting the man down in an elegant move.

A glance over her shoulder showed that the second ram was beyond use now, but Miata hadn't stopped. A dozen of the ruined siege ram's men were fleeing to the safety of their own lines; Miata chopped into this line of armored soldiers with energy. She cut down three men in one swing, decapitating them, and then cut down another four with a spinning horizontal twirl of the blade. One man put his hands up in surrender, but Miata ran him through as Nina screamed for her to stop.

"Miata, don't!"

Nina had been watching Miata so long she hadn't kept a close eye on the enemy, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in her back. She turned to find an enemy spearman piercing her back with his spear and with one swing disarmed the gaping man, and with the next swing, mercifully decapitated him.

Miata was continuing her rampage, slaughtering a cool dozen enemy soldiers in the interim. However, a massive wave of infantry had just arrived at the outer gate, and it was pouring into the gatehouse interior as the third siege ram was pushed through.

"Miata, stop," Nina shouted.

Miata didn't stop, so she rushed over to Miata, and then barely dodged an enemy arrow. Nina didn't dodge the next shot so well, saving her face from a painful and life-threatening impact by holding her arm out to painfully intercept it. Nina flinched, but then turned to Miata, grabbing her. Miata, luckily for Nina, didn't resist. She hauled Miata back, running together with Miata ahead of the horde of enemy soldiers. They spotted the rope, which was ascending, jumped, and with one arm, Nina grasped the rope. They were pulled up in the nick of time, as the stones holding the rope down let the rope loose a moment after they were back in the safety of the gatehouse.

"That should hold them awhile," Murat said, shaking their hands in congratulations, "it'll take them hours to get through with only one siege ram. We just better hope to god they don't breach the walls somewhere; we haven't the numbers to stop them once they do."

* * *

"Duck Helen," Captain Malaga yelled.

Helen did so and barely in time as a pair of arrows flung themselves over her, one grazing her hair. Then a helpful hand from the captain got her up.

"Thanks Cid," Helen smiled.

Cid, wearing full plate armor and an open-faced steel helmet, hardly looked like the man she'd known two years earlier. His face had gained a few lines, and he had a rougher edge to his voice. Helen looked over the wall cautiously to find a terrible scene: nearly a dozen wooden siege towers were being pushed towards the southern wall, while a pair of battering rams was approaching the gatehouse further east.

Hundreds of enemy archers were chancing counter-fire in order to launch suppressing salvos of arrows at the thinly spread defenders. A squad of 10 archers to her immediate left launched off a volley of flaming arrows at the rightmost siege tower. Though the arrows stuck in its side, the flames were quickly extinguished.

"Those towers will be the end of this city. They'll be able to put enough men onto the walls to overwhelm us," Cid yelled at her in the din.

Helen eyed the nearest tower, which was within 200 yards of the tower. Abruptly the archers nearest them had half their members down, arrows being responsible. Helen noticed a squad of enemy archers atop the siege tower, all of them shielded by a small half-wall on the tower's roof.

"Cid, cover me, I'm going to take out the tower," Helen informed him.

"You're what?"

"Just cover me while I wind up," she yelled back at Cid. "I'm going to hit that tower with a drill sword!"

Cid looked in alarm at her, and then held his shield over her as her arm began painfully twisting like a screw. It rotated once, and then again as Helen pushed the bones and flesh to their stretching limits, rotating the right arm another twelve times. Cid's shield buckled as arrows hit it above her.

"Alright, shield down, I've got this thing!"

Cid lowered the shield with unfortunate timing, as an arrow smashed into Helen just below the right collarbone. The impact knocked the breath out of her, but she waved off Cid's attempted help. With a tremendous surge of yoki energy down her right arm, she forced it to extend the 50 yards needed to reach the siege tower. As Helen did so her right arm began its rapid rotation, which began spinning the sword like a drill.

It impacted with a tremendous crash, smashing a hole through the siege tower just below the tower top. Wood, men, and even some limbs went flying through the air as the sword pushed further. Helen swept the spinning sword to the left, where with a great ka-chunk it broke the tower's corner support beam. The tower's top collapsed, spilling men, wood and supplies across the grassy, corpse-filled plains below.

Nadia ran up to her in the aftermath of destroying the tower, some three other warriors in tow.

"Good going Helen," Nadia praised her. "Hold on though, you're going to need that arrow pulled out. Camilla, you snap the arrowhead off that's sticking out Helen's back," Nadia told a pretty silver-eyed witch.

Nadia was holding the arrow by its shaft while Camilla circled around behind. Helen felt a small tug, and then snap and a surge of unbearable pain.

"Ah fuck, shit, shit, shit," Helen yelled out in pain.

"It's out Helen, and lucky for you the arrowhead went through and out of your shoulder. The pain would be much worse had it been embedded," Nadia informed her while helping her to stand.

"Come on Helen, don't just stand there! You've got to take out those siege towers now," Nadia yelled.

"Just give me a fuckin' minute Nadia," Helen barked, "it's still tender".

"We don't have time for it to heal Helen," Nadia shot back.

Helen got up and ran along the towers dodging the occasional onager-tossed fireball, numerous volleys of enemy arrows, and even a ballista bolt. She lined up for an attack, protected by Cid's shield, and got her arm twisted just before the towers reached the wall. She spun and extended her arm, the sword smashing through the four front support beams of two towers. Both immediately collapsed, spilling men and wooden splinters onto the dead-filled grass below.

Helen repeated the feat in the gatehouse on both battering rams, smashing them to smithereens. She continued on down the line, smashing down the remaining ten siege towers assaulting the southern wall. It was with the collapse of the last tower when she felt the onslaught of exhaustion despite her battle adrenaline. It was thus an immense relief when horns sounded, and suddenly the enemy soldiers turned and ran. A cheer rang out amongst Rabona's defenders as the besiegers fled. Instead of cheering she slumped against the parapet of the wall and sighed in relief.


	4. Chapter 3: Colonel Miria

**Chapter 3: Colonel Miria**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**A short time after the Rabona Orthodox Church's founding in 605 b.l.e., the town and its church were raided by bandits. In desperation the clergy turned to fortifying the town, nearly bankrupting the church. In 591 b.l.e., Rabona's first stone walls were finished, encompassing a city of just a few thousand. In 590 b.l.e, a town guard was founded to protect the Holy City. Within a few short years it was placed under the command of the church, its soldiers' loyalty bought with generous funding. The Rabona Town Guard was renamed the Holy Guards of Rabona in 549 b.l.e. With their protection secure, the church was finally able to plan the construction of the first cathedral in their sacred capitol, the triple-spire Teresian Cathedral. This cathedral was the church's crown jewel from its completion in 334 b.l.e. till...**

* * *

"Ah, Lieutenant Renee," the Rabonese soldier saluted her as she approached him in the bustling medieval street, "What brings me the honor of seeing one of Rabona's saviors?"

"I'm looking for Captain of the Guard Galacon, the guy who calls himself Galk," Renee added.

"Ah," the massively built, plate-armored guard exclaimed, only a little of his face visible underneath his open visor.

"If I remember right, the Captain of the Guard is near the western gatehouse overseeing the disposal of the blasphemers' bodies," the guard politely informed her.

"By the way," Renee added, "what's with the new building across from the cathedral?"

"You mean the Lord Mayor's mansion I assume," the guard stated, his mustache rising distractingly with each word. "That is the official residence of Lord Mayor Zaehringen and the Council of Lords. They approve all new demands for taxation from the church. I don't have a high opinion of them; they seem to only care for the rich. You'd best steer clear of them. They've been nothing but trouble for the Rabona Orthodox Church and its Holy Council."

"Holy Council?"

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of it dear claymore savior; the Holy Council is composed of the Bishop of Rabona, four senior priests, and the head of Rabona's nuns. That body of six holy people essentially controls everything here in Rabona, well, at least until recently," the guard added ruefully.

"Thanks for your time," Renee waved at the soldier, who said something indiscernible as she merged with the crowd.

The streets were rarely straight, making the city maddeningly hard to navigate, but Renee pressed on, drawing occasional applause from onlookers. She noticed shopkeepers opening up for the day, their children cleaning the shops' steps with crude brooms as crowds gathered outside. To her right a bakery's windows opened, a pleasant smell passing by her nose shortly thereafter. Renee sighed, but kept walking until she came in view of Rabona's massive western gatehouse.

The western gatehouse was made of thick granite stone and red brick, giving it a colorful, beautifully solid appearance. As she stood observing the tower, she was passed by innumerable peasants and farmers bringing in produce on horse carts. It was then that she noticed the large arched entrance through which they'd entered, and she headed towards it.

The gatehouse towered some eight stories above as she walked closer, its arched gate stretching two stories up, and a crush of people walking through it. Renee could see the white flag of Rabona atop the four towers above the gatehouse's grand keep. The flag featured the Rabonese dollar symbol silhouetted by two angelic wings all in gold upon a brilliant white background.

Renee followed the crowd through the gate to find an immense interior with some minor evidence of the recent fighting. Overhead was a solid stone ceiling interspersed with holes where archers could pour attacks upon any invaders. Continuing on, she dodged a careless farm-girl on horseback that rode past, and then cursed the kid out, "What the hell are you thinking girl?"

The girl, mounted on a small gray horse, halted for a moment and looked back. The farm girl's face looked stricken as she saw who she'd almost carelessly run over. Suddenly she bolted, whipping the horse forward, her boyish brown tunic fitting with her boorish behavior.

"Ah hell," Renee grumbled, watching the girl gallop off, "it's not worth my time."

At last she made it into the sunlight, where she found an immense stone bridge, its great length spanning a fast-moving large river. In the distance, standing upon it, she could just make out two warriors-Miata's red-haired adoptive mother Clarice, and the former mayor of Pieta, Nadia.

As Renee got closer, she noticed a large, muscular man in chain-mail armor, a scar on the right cheek of his beautiful face. She recognized him as Captain of the Guard, Francois "Galk" Galacon. He was listening politely to Nadia and Clarice as they talked.

"Natalie is with Miata, Nadia. After killing the entire siege ram's crew last night, they went to bed crying," Clarice sighed.

Galk, Nadia and Clarice didn't say anything for a moment while Renee watched in silence from the distance, and instead looked around at the outpouring of civilians to their fields across the bridge.

"You know Lieutenant Nadia," Galk interjected into the awkward silence, "I hadn't realized warriors suffered from consciences like that. Is there some problem in killing humans?"

Nadia looked astonished and Clarice uncomfortable at hearing this.

"Look Captain Galacon, Galk, whatever it is you prefer, when we were inducted into the Organization's ranks of warriors, there were special rules," Nadia lectured with a waving hand. "We were explicitly prohibited from killing humans, since supposedly we were fighting to protect humans. It turns out it was all a ruse, so Miria led those warriors that would believe her against the Organization. Once that was over though, we started to get attacked by bandits who believed we wouldn't fight back."

"So you were forced to kill humans then?" Galk asked, eyeing Renee distantly as Nadia and Clarice remained ignorant of her nearby presence. She couldn't just stay out of such an important conversation, so she didn't.

"Yes, but not because we wanted to," Renee interrupted.

"Oh Renee," Clarice called out, looking over her shoulder as Renee walked up to them.

"Hello there Clarice, Nadia, Captain Galk," she smiled, and then pointed to the distant piles of bodies being burned. "What's with the burning?"

"We tried to find a place to bury the enemies' dead, but none of the farmers want heathens buried on their lands. Instead we have to burn their bodies, or else we'll get a plague of disease going through the city. I know it's a little barbaric, but we must respect our citizens' wishes," Galk explained, throwing up his hands.

"It does seem fairly barbaric," Nadia agreed, nodding her head.

Renee narrowed her eyes in cold fury at Nadia's statement, hissing, "So Nadia, if that's so barbaric, what wasn't barbaric about you displaying the head of an awakened on the wall over your mayoral desk in Pieta?"

Nadia rounded on her, indignant, "Look, that bastard nearly killed three of my town's warriors. He said he was going to cut off our heads and display them like trophies on his home's wall. So I gave him his just desserts after Nina decapitated him."

Galk walked away as they continued loudly shouting, some frightened townspeople and farmers looked on, several edging away.

"Oh, so in other words, you stooped to his level," Renee yelled at Nadia.

Nadia, whose voice was higher, screamed back, "Who made you judge? If I wanted to mount the barbarian's head on my wall, it's none of your concern. It's not like he was human anymore!"

Renee rebutted as the bridge's foot traffic came to a complete standstill near them, several women in particular easing close in curiosity, "So what are are we then?"

"Girls, girls," a familiar, kind nun interjected, her eyes scarred marring her otherwise perfect tall figure. It was a warrior who was wearing a blue nun's uniform with a white under-uniform, giving her a clean, attractive appearance. "You're creating a scene, and I doubt you want to see what Miria's mood will be like if you wake her up with your fighting."

"Oh Sister Galatea," Clarice chimed into the silence, "I was wondering when we'd see you."

"I was busy attending a Holy Council meeting. It's sort of the executive council for the church," Galatea explained to the upraised eyebrows of everyone present, "and I'm on it as the highest-ranking nun in the Church. I was wondering where Miria was, but instead I find her two top lieutenants one step short of fighting," Galatea noted with a mischievous smile.

Nadia abruptly walked off towards Rabona, the crowd of people giving her a respectful berth.

"Where are you going Nadia?"

Galatea asked while turning her head to talk as Nadia passed by.

"I'm going to take a bath. Renee can get you to where Miria is," Nadia said loudly before walking off, disappearing into the crowd.

"Well then, Captain of the Guard Galacon, the Holy Council has orders for you," Galatea told Galk while handing over a sealed dispatch.

"Very well," he acknowledged to Galatea while Renee watched.

Galk opened the orders and briefly looked them over, "It's not a problem Sister Galatea. I'll brief them myself later today then."

"Thank you," Galatea graciously replied before waving goodbye, heading back to the city.

"There's something odd about Sister Galatea," Galk laughed, directing his eyes towards Renee and Clarice as Galatea left. The curious people around them began moving again as the controversy subsided.

Renee asked Galk dryly, "Like the fact that she's not really blind?"

"What, that's preposterous, just look at her eyes," Galk scoffed. "They're scarred pure white!"

Renee laughed, "Do you know blind humans who run around at high speeds with big swords?"

"Well, no, I've never seen such a thing Renee," he admitted.

"Exactly," Renee agreed. "There's no blind woman in the world that could fight while jumping between rooftops; it would be pure suicide to even try it. Galatea may look blind, but once you notice how she moves, it's obvious she isn't quite as blind as she pretends to be. I'd guess she still has some minor amount of sight left to her."

* * *

Miria blinked her eyes open to see the noon sun beating down a city which was still smoldering in parts. A glance up found Renee, whose navy-blue uniform was cut and scratched all over.

"Captain Miria, sorry to wake you," Renee apologized, kneeling over her, "but the captains insisted I wake you."

Renee motioned to the four men behind her, now dressed in more comfortable mail shirts under golden-colored tunics. Miria recognized them easily, starting with Galk furthest to the left, while next to Galk was a shorter man the same height as Renee.

Cid had a very attractive face, albeit almost feminine, and with his blond, wavy bangs covering his forehead, a small, straight nose and a rounded chin. Just barely visible was an elegant ponytail of blond hair falling down his back.

"Hi Miria," he smiled at her.

"Hi Cid," Miria smiled back. "It's been awhile hasn't it?"

"Long enough for us to really need you around here," he complimented her. "We'll talk later."

Miria got up with the help of the black-haired Captain Murat, whose blue eyes and curly black hairs were more attractive than his overly-masculine face. Murat looked barely taller than Renee and herself.

The last captain, van Willems, was barely edged out by Galk in height. Van Willems had a distinct, large hawk nose and short, black hair.

"Well then, let's not keep them waiting," Cid said.

Miria asked, "Keep who waiting?"

"The Holy Council of course," Cid answered earnestly.

Renee followed behind Miria as they walked through the city, which was seemingly stuffed full of people everywhere. The crowds parted as they walked to the front of the triple-towered Teresian Cathedral, which sat on a large city square. Opposite it, Miria noted, was a new, much shorter building in the same Gothic style as the cathedral.

Two guards in full armor opened the cathedral's doors to reveal a vaulted interior. Columns the width of small houses supported a large wall of arched stained-glass windows. At the far end, hundreds of feet away, were a group of six people sitting in a semicircle of stone chairs around an altar. Miria approached in silence with Renee, surrounded by guards in ceremonial armor and white cloaks concealing their weapons.

They waited a moment, and Miria noticed a woman with pure white eyes dressed in a nun's clothes. The nun had straight, long, blond hair, her face was marred by a series of burn scars around her eyes, but she had an otherwise flawless facial features. Seated to the nun's right was a short-faced man of some age, his lack of hair barely disguised by his pointed white and red hat. His robes were a magnificent red and white, in contrast to the four other white-robed male priests. All except the nun appeared to be at least of middle age.

The priest in the formal robes spoke first, "Captain Miria, you are to be praised for your selfless work in defending the holy city of Rabona."

He rose as the four captains of Rabona's military bowed low on one knee, faces to the floor.

The nun whispered as loudly as she dared, "Miria, you are expected to bow to Bishop Vincent."

"Bishop Vincent is it now," Miria stated, suddenly recognizing the Bishop before her.

"Miria," the nun hissed.

"Let me explain something to you Sister Galatea," Miria shot back at the nun, "and Bishop Vincent. You asked for the help of warriors, and I have brought them here under MY COMMAND," she loudly declared. "I am not going to bow to anyone when bargaining from such a position. If it were not for us, you should not have just seen the siege lifted."

Bishop Vincent raised an arm to cool passions, "Now, now, my dear Captain Miria. The Rabona Orthodox Church is very grateful for your help, and we are more than willing to offer you and your warriors' places as enlisted soldiers in the Rabona Holy Guards."

Miria crossed her arms before answering, "It is indeed an enticing offer Bishop Vincent, but your letter promised my warriors positions as officers in the Holy Guards."

"My letter?"

Bishop Vincent looked bewildered, and turned to face the rest of the priests.

"So then, you weren't really the one who sent that letter, were you?"

Bishop Vincent looked embarrassed as he began fierce whispering to Sister Galatea.

"Well, that's too bad really, I was planning on helping the city, but I suppose if you really didn't need me, my comrades and I will just leave..."

Miria turned around, with Renee looking questioning but following her lead. They were nearly to the door when she heard footfall behind her.

"Wait Miria, we can come to an understanding!"

Miria turned to see Galatea stop just short of them, looking frantic.

"What is your offer Sister Galatea?"

"Just name your terms," Galatea panted.

"We can agree on those in detail later," Miria answered.

"By the way Renee, I must insist you not enter the Teresian Cathedral with blood splattered across your outfit," Sister Galatea pointed out.

Renee looked down abruptly to notice her entire skirt and both leg stockings were absolutely covered in dried blood.

"Ah hell," Renee cussed to Galatea's visible annoyance. "Wait a minute, how did you know I had blood on my outfit?"

Galatea stiffened, "I can smell it."

Renee murmured as she left with Miria, "Sure you can."

* * *

"Well, it is nicer sleeping here than against my sword on that cold stone wall," Natalie opined.

Miria was watching Natalie, who in turn was looking around a fairly simple storeroom, which had stone walls, two small windows and a bunch of hastily assembled cots in it. The room's fireplace was dusty and full of cobwebs, and there were still sacks of grain piled high throughout the room. Natalie wandered through the room until she found the sleeping cat, Cid.

"This is great Captain...I mean Colonel Miria," Natalie beamed. "I can't believe it, do we really get to be officers in the army and live here?"

"Yes, you and Cid both," she informed the beaming Natalie.

"Wait, when did me living here become part of the deal?"

Natalie wore an expression of momentary confusion as they both turned to face the blond man who had uttered the words.

"Captain Malaga, I meant the cat," Miria laughed while Natalie frowned in confusion.

Cid the man managed a nervous laugh and smiled.

"Oh, by the way Colonel Miria, I named the other cat Miria!"

Natalie grabbed an orange tabby cat and hoisted it in the air, even as it hissed at this. Natalie lowered the orange cat to the ground and it soon wandered off towards Cid the cat.

"I hope you know if you're staying in my room, those cats most certainly are not," Miria informed Natalie.

"Aww, why not?"

Cid began nudging Miria with an elbow and grinning.

"I'm allergic to cats Natalie."

"But...oh OK, but you should see your cat, Miria, I think she likes the black one!"

Cid dissolved into laughter at these words, and Miria started laughing involuntarily as well, both of them having seen what the cats were arduously up to behind Natalie. Natalie grew flustered as Cid and Miria began crying tears of laughter together.

"What's so funny?"

Miria barely managed to stop her laughing to point behind the flustered Natalie.

"Natalie, take a look at your cats," Miria gasped, barely stifling another laugh.

"Huh, what are you...oh my god, they're mating!"

Natalie rushed to get her lust-filled cats out of the room and safely out of the sight of everyone, her face beet red with embarrassment. With Natalie out, Miria resumed her tour of the great tower with Cid by her side.

"Well, I'm sorry we had to lodge you back in the old great keep Miria," Cid apologized.

Miria was forced along with Cid to dodge a pair of silver-eyed girls carrying large loads of towels, and then continued walking down the hall.

"It's not so bad, and I'm sure the girls don't mind, especially since the newly homeless need the other lodgings in town worse than we do," Miria reassured him. "Besides, we stayed here the last time when we were fighting the Organization. It gives me a lot of good memories."

Miria found her hand wandering onto Cid's right shoulder, but he brushed it off.

"No, I'm not ready to forgive you yet," he snapped.

Miria sighed, "You're still mad at me, aren't you?"

Cid remained silent for a moment, but eventually broke his silence.

"That was quite bold of you, forcing the Holy Council to grant you the position of the commanding officer of the Holy Guards. I don't know why you did it, but I can tell you're planning something Miria," Cid said quietly.

"It's the only thing worth fighting for; the unification of the island," she admitted.

"Good luck with that," Cid sighed.

"Why, is their some problem with that goal?"

"If you're assuming your only real enemies are that warlord's soldiers and bandits, you'd be wrong," Cid cryptically stated.

Miria probed Cid for an answer, "Then who are these enemies?"

Cid snorted, "You'll discover that soon enough..."

* * *

The day after they'd moved into Rabona's old great tower, Miria managed to scrounge up a desk and some office supplies. She set herself up in a fifth-floor office and began her military career the next day. The room was lit by a single large arched window, and walled in dull gray stone. Miria quickly added some spare tapestries showing historical events from Rabona's past to spice up the room. Natalie joined in with great enthusiasm, searching the seven story great tower for other things to add.

Natalie returned first with some old black drapes, which after some cleaning they'd put up to grand effect around the window. To help in her efforts, she soon enlisted 13-year-old Miata, whose freakishly great strength aided efforts immensely. Miria had left the office mostly empty, a chair and an old grand oak desk placed facing away from the window. When she'd returned, there were four large black sofas spaced out along the walls to the left and right of the room's only door.

Before she'd even had a chance to clean them, Miata and Natalie returned each carrying what looked like two table legs.

Miata's growth since Miria had last seen her was obvious. Miata stood the same height as the curly-haired Natalie, three years her senior. Miata's face was very effeminate and thin, with a short chin and nose, large eyes, and a long forehead.

The two girls dropped the chairs to the floor.

"Phew," Natalie groaned. "Hey mo...I mean Colonel Miria, where do you want Virginia and Camilla to put the table?"

"Table? When did I ask you to bring a table?"

Natalie smiled, "Well, we figured every great commander has a grand strategy table to discuss...well, uh, military stuff."

"That's very kind of you girls, but..."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Oh, that's them!" Miata exclaimed.

Miata rushed to open the door wide, and Virginia came in struggling mightily to squeeze a massive table through the tall door. Natalie rushed to help as the thick table, bereft of support legs, narrowly scraped through. On the end a warrior a little taller than Natalie held on, clearly tired. The witch had her blond hair perfectly coiffed out above her neck, and slowly let her end of the table down to the wooden floor. The others followed, and soon they had the table resting on its side.

It took the better part of an hour for them to properly hammer in the legs and clean off the table. It stood just above Miria's waist, support by four immense support legs with lions decorating its feet. It was as long as it was wide, and swallowed up space by being half the room's width. The girls had left with Miria's thanks when Cid entered, looking rather impressed.

"Wow, you've really been combing this old tower over. I knew it had a lot of odd things, but I wasn't expecting you to find this much," Cid complimented.

"Cid, the captains' meeting isn't for awhile yet, is there some reason you're here?"

"I was just wondering if our new Colonel Miria needed anything," he obfuscated.

"Really? That's all? You didn't come to see me?"

"You are really insufferable sometimes Miria," Cid snapped back, turning his back on her.

"Is this about me leaving Rabona twenty months ago?"

"You left Rabona with your comrades to go out on a final Yoma hunt, and you said in your note that you'd be back in one month," Cid's said, his voice rising.

"Well I'm sorry Cid, but the others needed me, and there was no work here left for simple warriors like us," Miria apologized, putting a hand down upon the table.

"I put up with you leaving, coming back, and then leaving again with no notice for four months," he shouted, sounding bitter.

"Our relationship was nice while it lasted, but you knew that my adventures would never allow it to work," Miria said defensively.

Cid took out a black box barely larger than his hand.

"I never believed that," Cid said as Miria's eyes focused in on the box.

"Oh god, Cid, you didn't really?"

He flicked it open to reveal a golden ring with a massive red ruby atop it, the ring resting comfortably in the box's black satin.

"I had saved most of my salary for years, but I didn't know what for until I met you. I got this the day you left," he finished quietly, putting the ring's box upon the table. "Then you left me high and..."

Natalie abruptly came through the door clutching the black Cid the cat in one arm, the orange Miria the cat in the other.

"Hey, Colonel Miria, I was wondering, if Cid and Miria had kittens, would you..."

Natalie trailed off as Cid walked past her, opened the door, and then slammed it shut as he left.

"What's with him?"

* * *

The captains' meeting wasn't until the next day; in the meantime the girls had all set up cots in their rooms. The fields outside Rabona had been painstakingly cleared of the dead, and scouts, both human and claymore had left Rabona to find where King Charles' forces had gone to.

The next day came, with the captains' meeting set for the early afternoon. It was nearly mid-day when Virginia entered first, sword and uniform both freshly cleaned, her long ponytail nearly getting caught in the door. Curly-haired Nadia, wearing a repaired outfit, came in next. She was followed in by the captains of the Holy Guards. Galk came in first alongside Cid, who refused to look Miria in the eyes. They were followed by the jovial Murat and aristocratic van Willems. Helen, unsurprisingly, immediately followed right behind van Willems, with Tabitha and Yuma behind her. Nina led in last of the meeting's participants, the double pig-tailed Alexandra and hair-bun wearing Valencia.

"Tabitha," Miria asked, "we're ready to start the meeting, but where's Renee?"

The door opened to reveal Renee, though her hair was very wet and surprisingly un-braided.

"Sorry, Camilla was trying to clean the blood from my hair," Renee explained.

Renee looked around for an open seat on a sofa, but there were none, so Renee joined Valencia in sitting on Miria's desk instead. Miria waited until she had everyone's attention, and then brought out the grand map of Rabona.

"I'm happy to see everyone in good health, captains and warriors both. Before I begin, I believe it would be best for Captain Galacon," Miria waved to Galk, "to explain our military situation as it stands now."

Galk stepped up, in full armor except for his helmet, and looked them in the eyes. Miria sat down in his now open sofa space next to Cid.

"As you all know, we lifted the siege of Rabona less than a week ago with the help of you warriors. During the siege and during their nighttime attack, we lost four months worth of food, 87 soldiers, and a significant number of shops, homes and civilians. King Charles lost roughly a thousand troops in his failed assault. He's pulled back his remaining 9000 troops to the west, but his forces still outnumber ours 9-to-1."

"9-to-1," Helen gasped, "good god, shouldn't you have more soldiers for a city this size?"

Galk bit his lip before replying, "Some of you warriors may not be aware, but only two years ago we had just 500 soldiers. Once Bishop Vincent took office a year ago, he enlarged the Holy Guards to its present size of 1000 soldiers in ten companies."

Nadia butted in, "That sounds reasonable, but isn't Rabona rather large?"

Galk turned his attention to Nadia, who'd asked the question in a manner only somewhat less brusque than Helen had questioned Galk.

"A year ago we heard of a robber baron styling himself a lord who was conquering small towns in the western lands of Lautrec," Galk answered. "Half a year ago he re-founded the port city of Gonal as his temporary capital, and his troop numbers surged spectacularly. It turns out his secret was to lure the armies of bandits to his side by promising them war booty and even women and children as slaves."

Miria queried, "How did you figure that out?"

"It was easy enough Colonel Miria," he acknowledged her question with a nod. "The bandits in the countryside practically disappeared in western Toulouse as Charles' forces grew," Galk explained. "Charles declared himself King of Toulouse a month ago, then surprised us by besieging the city with 10,000 men. But for whatever reason, he soon left with half of them for the west and left his son Philippe in command. Philippe, our spies tell us, is not a patient man, and we lucked out when you warriors arrived and he ordered the premature assault," Galk stated flatly.

Alexandra chimed in, "How far away are Charles' forces now?"

"The nearest are west of here, around 30 miles away, a good two days march," Renee butted in.

Miria stepped up as Renee and the others looked on, Galk taking her seat. "There's something very off about this whole situation," Miria stated.

"Like what Colonel Miria?" Tabitha asked, puzzled.

"Charles could and should have easily taken the city of Rabona a month ago," Miria noted. "He had 10,000 men on hand, and he had enough ladders to breach the walls in days. But instead he marched west with half of the men."

"Now that his forces have been beaten off, what happens?" Cid asked, eyes low.

"I'm going to be doing a full-scale reorganization of the Holy Guards. It's obvious to me that the Holy Guards are more guards than military soldiers. You have a total of four captains to command a 1000 men divided into 10 companies. That's going to change immediately." Miria emphasized her point by waving a piece of parchment.

"As my first order as Colonel of the Holy Guards, I have required that each company of 100 men is to be led by a captain."

Captain van Willems jumped to his feet, "I object to this blatant demotion Colonel Miria! You cannot expect any of the Captains to accept such a-."

"Your fellow captains have already assented to this. This is for the good of the force, not your personal pride," Miria said, cutting van Willems' arguments down bluntly.

"But I'm glad you spoke up Captain Willems, since my second order concerns you," she continued, her voice earnest.

Miria picked up a second piece of parchment upon the table and shook it with a hand.

"In order to create a well-functioning, rational and meritocratic army, I am banning the buying of military officer positions from now on. Captain van Willems will still be able to carry on being an officer, even if he bought his commissioned officer post of captain."

"You expect to get away with this?"

Captain van Willems yelled, then jumped from his seat, swinging his fist at her. Miria didn't even bother dodging, but instead stopped the fist with an open palm. She then kneed the taller Willems straight in the armored gut, dropping him to the floor instantly. Everyone in the room jumped to their feet just as she'd knocked van Willems out, his body limp on the ground.

"Natalie," Miria called, and abruptly Natalie rushed through the door.

Natalie saluted her smartly before looking down in surprise at unconscious van Willems in shocked curiosity.

"You called moth...Colonel?"

"Take him out of the tower. He's been dismissed from the service of the Holy Guards," Miria commanded.

It took awhile for the excitement to die down after Natalie left carrying the unconscious Willems out, but at last everyone retook their old seats. Miria waited and then looked at the third piece of parchment on the office's grand oak table.

"My third order concerns the organization and ranks of the army. All companies are to have a 1st and 2nd Lieutenant, each commanding a platoon of 50 men. All warriors will start with the officers' rank of 2nd Lieutenant or higher when you are enlisted into the Holy Guards," Miria noted. "As it is too early to be creating regiments yet, due to our force's size, battalions of five companies each will be my first creation. The 1st Battalion of the Rabona Holy Guards will be commanded by Commander Galacon, and the 2nd Battalion will be commanded by Commander Renee."

* * *

Miria was sitting in her office, gazing over figures and maps while wearing her usual navy-blue outfit, gold-gilded gauntlets, beautiful gold-gilded pauldrons, and a pair of steel shoes. Outside, through a window on the right side of her desk, Miria could see numerous small boats and modest ships unloading their goods along a small wharf in the canal's harbor. Miria remembered that it was that wharf that the warriors had landed in Rabona during the night of the siege.

She was considering how to acquire some more iron for the army's sword smiths when the door to the office opened with a squeak. Miria ignored it for a moment and began jotting down some orders, as the yoki was quite familiar.

"Colonel Miria?"

Miria looked up to see Renee standing at attention at the edge of her desk.

"What is it Commander Renee? This had better not be about Commander Nadia's fighting strength again," Miria threatened in a silky, menacing voice.

Renee was wearing partial plate armor that covered her torso and upper arms, as well as her shoulders. Sitting atop Renee's body were a set of gold-gilded pauldrons very similar to what they had worn as Organization warriors. Renee held an open-faced steel helmet in one arm, and was covered underneath the armor by her original leather outfit. Her hair was even redone; pressed back tight instead of corn-rows, a few braids of hair falling to the side of Renee's eyes. Beneath the commander's ears her hair was braided as it fell past the shoulders.

"It's not Nadia's combat abilities I promise," Renee answered edgily. Her face contained a hint of both seriousness and something approaching glee. Abruptly Miria noticed Renee was accompanied by Nina, who was similarly clad and looking rather impatient.

"Well then, out with it Commander," she told Renee.

Renee nodded her beautiful braided head, "I've detected a group of 20 yoki far to the east; they almost certainly are all Yoma.

"So you and Captain Nina want my permission for personal hunts of these said Yoma do you?"

Both warriors nodded, looking unusually happy at the prospect of killing Yoma.

"Yes," Nina answered bluntly while brushing a single strand of bangs out of her eyes.

"Well you're not. Captain Tabitha, I know you're outside the door, so please come in."

Nina looked on the edge of revolt as Tabitha entered the room trailing a gangly-looking Miata, who had put on enough height to equal Tabitha. Both were wearing their outfits and a pair of large plain steel pauldrons. They looked rather meek and pedestrian next to Renee, whose chain-mail tunic and gold-gilded shoulder plates gave her a formidable presence.

Tabitha saluted, "Your orders Colonel Miria?"

Miria' follower mewed, looking happy while Miata remained expressionless next to her.

"Captain Tabitha," Miria addressed her, "Take the Elite Guard, track down the Yoma, annihilate them. I also want some reconnaissance of the eastern lands. Find out how bad the bandit and warlord conflicts are there, and keep a lookout for ships on the coast. Supposedly the whole island is being hit by pirates. I suspect however that something else is going on," Miria explained.

"I'll depart immediately as soon as all eight of the others are gathered," Tabitha answered and walked out in a stunned silence as Miata followed.

The door slammed shut, and then Nina's face contorted with red rage, "What the hell is this? At the very least a senior officer like Commander Renee ought to go. I don't know what the hell kind of farce this-"

Miria cut off Nina by whipping around the desk at incredible speed, then stopped practically nose-to-nose with Nina. Nina abruptly jumped backwards and hit her head on the tough stone wall.

"Ow," Nina whimpered.

"I'll explain something very clearly Captain Nina; I am in command, not you. When you signed up to serve, you pledged to uphold your orders and respect the chain of command. I have it in my power to expel you from the service, and you can help Natalie with cooking and housekeeping if you like," Miria threatened, "If not, then this bloodthirsty 'swing first, think later' attitude had better stop."

Nina merely mumbled, "Yes ma'am."

"I hate to horsewhip you Nina, but I can't afford you running off to kill Yoma. Commander Renee reports that your pikemen company is by far the best she has. I would hate to see such a promising young officer ruin her reputation by abandoning her duties. You will get your chance at action soon enough," Miria reassured the cowed Captain Nina.

Nina managed to stammer, "Colonel, why are we warriors are being assigned as officers?"

Nina had a little more guts than Miria remembered, even if Nina wasn't looking her in the eye.

"Colonel Miria is raising the war potential of the Holy Guards," Renee interjected. "If the men have officers who don't run from the enemy, they likely won't either. We need that to take on King Charles' army, since they outnumber our fighting troops 9 to 1. In about a month, it'll be 9 to 2, and if they have any sense, they'll strike soon."

"Thank you Commander," Miria praised Renee. "Captain Nina, you're dismissed."

Nina nodded before walking out, much chastened, her rage long gone. The door to Miria's immense war office clicked shut as she closed the door.

"Permission to be at ease ma'am," Renee requested.

"Permission granted Renee. I suppose you're going to ask about Tabitha's new unit, aren't you?"

"Well yes," Renee admitted, "Isn't it a bit much to call them the Elite Guard? Nina is nearly on par with Tabitha as a warrior, and the rest besides Miata are all below-average fighters."

"Well, first off, I wasn't about to put my most promising commanders in an all-warrior unit. Secondly Renee," Miria emphasized, "I need Miata's power put to use somewhere. Clarice and Miata are in the unit as Tabitha's 1st and 2nd Lieutenants. The Elite Guard, or more precisely Miata and those that help her, will act as our shock troops. The ten of them together will be worth a thousand human fighters," Miria explained patiently while sitting back down behind her immense desk.

"Why not give Miata a command?"

"Miata's thirteen; yes, thirteen Renee," Miria countered to Renee's look of disbelief.

"There's no way," Renee snorted. "She doesn't look a day over-"

"I don't care how old she looks. The important thing is that Miata is still too young to be commanding men into battle. She's a great tactical fighter, but she's not a leader. That reminds me, have your scouts picked up any sign of our other great warrior?"

Renee shook her head regretfully, "Not a sign. It looks like Claire's disappeared like you said. If she's out there, I haven't detected a trace of her since we returned to Rabona."

Abruptly the office's door swung open to reveal Yuma and Helen, both wearing chain-mail tunics and plain steel pauldrons over navy-blue leather outfits.

"Well then Commander," Miria addressed Renee, "you're dismissed."

Renee turned and left as Helen and Yuma parted ways to let her through.

"Reporting in," Helen grinned, "so what now big sister?"

Miria ignored Helen's militarily incorrect address and instead turned to Yuma, "Captain Yuma, Commander Renee says you find your current position not to your liking."

Yuma looked uncomfortable to say the least, but instead of speaking up Yuma merely bit her tongue and swallowed.

"With that in mind, I've decided to award you command of the 1st Archers Battalion. Congratulations Commander Yuma," Miria said, shaking the newly promoted warrior's hand. Yuma had a bewildered look on her face that slowly changed to a small smile.

"Wow," Helen exclaimed, "that's some hell of a nice promotion. You get a big pay raise and those nice gilded shoulder plates," she enviously remarked.

"Ah thanks," Yuma said, looking uncertainly at Miria and then at Helen.

"Here are your orders Commander," Miria said, handing Yuma a parchment with orders she knew said for Yuma to start the newly equipped archers on some badly needed archery practice.

"Ma'am," Yuma said, saluting as she left.

"What the hell's with them? They sound so funny and formal," Helen carelessly remarked.

"Captain," Miria warned.

"Captain? I dun get it, why's everyone formal and citing rank," Helen asked almost rhetorically.

"Because it's proper military etiquette, Captain Helen," Miria huffed.

"Why do I get the feeling you're pissed off for a different reason?"

"I had Natalie room with you, and now people are telling me you've encouraged her to gamble and you even curse around her," Miria snapped.

"Hey, it was Natalie who-"

"I don't want to hear it Helen," Miria hissed, "the fact of the matter is she's my daughter, not yours. Then there are these constant reports of your juvenile behavior in your battlefield class with Captain Virginia, the half dozen reports I've seen of you sleeping with your male subordinates, and don't even get me started on what I've heard you are attempting to do to Lord van Willems' marriage. Heaven only knows what Deneve would say if she could see you now."

Helen could no longer meet her eyes this time, which meant she was getting through to her.

"Then there's this report from yesterday. Reportedly you and Captain Nina were engaged in a drinking game. During the game Commander Renee showed up at the bar, and you yelled at her to 'quit showing off her melons.'"

"I don't really remember that," Helen admitted.

"Well, Renee does. Then there's what came next," and for once Miria could not stifle a mirthful laugh at Helen's antics.

"What?"

Miria started to laugh uncontrollably a moment at Helen's expense before settling down and reading further, "Captain Helen then yelled at Commander Renee, quote, 'you think ya got a big pair of fruit on ya, eh Renee? Well guess what bitch.' Thereafter the Captain exposed her breasts to the bar patrons and Commander Renee while yelling, 'How do you like dem apples?'"

* * *

Natalie was walking the cobblestone streets of Rabona, passing by several tantalizing bakeries and a women's tailor shop when she heard a chirp. She spun to the right only to find a pair of disappointing pigeons rather than a pet shop, so she moved on. Natalie was being rather unusual, walking around in broad daylight with a sword on her back while wearing human clothing. She was wearing a blue and white blouse with a matching dress to be precise.

It had been mother's doing, Natalie thought absentmindedly. Something about not attracting unwanted attention and looking like a proper young lady. No, no, no, what was she thinking? Natalie shook her head; over the past month she'd been referring to Miria as "mother" in her head. Worse, she'd verbally slipped up in front of Helen, who'd been mocking her as "frickin' useless" after she'd easily lost a practice swordfight to Clarice. The fact that Clarice was a much better fighter than years prior was a fact ignored by Helen.

She'd broken down in tears, sobbing while Clarice attempted to comfort her. In the end, it'd taken Miria coming by moments later to stop the tears. Given the fact that Miria had forbidden her from joining the army (even though Julia was the same age, which, on occasion, even Natalie forgot), Miria compensated by giving her errand tasks. Natalie had found doing these errands very rewarding at first, but over time her isolation from the other warriors made her worry.

At the moment she was wading through crowds, composed of everyone from rural peasants, wealthy merchants, middle class burghers, off-duty soldiers, and the occasional prostitute surreptitiously accepting propositions at the local barber shop. Eventually, after winding her way through a maddeningly unmarked set of streets, Natalie found what she'd been looking for. It was a sign for one of the largest blacksmith shops in town. It had a massive, gaudy sign out front that read, "Languedoc, le meilleur forgeron de la ville!" The rest of the building was some four stories tall, topped with dozens of smoking chimneys and red brick facade. It was separated from the other buildings nearby by several feet, almost all of which were blacksmith shops as well.

"The best blacksmith in the town? This guy must be even more confident in himself than Aunt Helen when she's picking up guys," Natalie commented.

"What a thing to say," a young man nearby interrupted.

Natalie glanced down from the gaudy sign to find a young apron-wearing boy not much older than herself. He had curly black hair, was quite a bit taller, and in Natalie's inexperienced opinion of the male species, rather cute. The boy was standing behind the blacksmith shop's weapons and armor displays. Behind the boy came a racket of hammering and the sounds of several bellows being used to heat up the forges.

"Bonjour," she yelled over the racket of hammering.

"Bonjour belle dame," the boy rather audaciously answered.

Natalie blushed, "I am not a beautiful LADY. How old do you think I am?"

"Ah, well," the boy sighed, "I'm not very good at telling the age of silver-eyed witches. How old are you anyways?"

Natalie sniffed in indignation, "Mother says you're not supposed to ask a girl her age. I'm here to see Monsieur Languedoc about a new order for another thousand broadswords."

"A thousand?"

Natalie was less shocked at the boy's reaction than the fact that she had just openly called Miria "mother" yet again despite trying not to. She began silently pondering just how much Miria really meant to her while the boy ran back into the shop yelling.

"Come on, I was supposed to be back already," Natalie complained in a whisper outside.

Abruptly a large number of imposing men came out, and Natalie grew a little nervous.

"Ha-ha, look at our beautiful patron boys," a particularly large man jovially laughed, smacking the nervous boy from before on the shoulders. "I'm Paul Languedoc, owner of this fine establishment. My nephew Pierre says you're here to commission us."

"The Holy Guards army wants to commission you to produce 1,000 swords to be ready in a month," Natalie explained.

"For how much?"

"Colonel Miria is willing to pay you 5 Francs a sword, so 5,000 Francs in all," she replied.

One man whistled at the amount, while several others coming forward began whispering in earnest, no doubt over whether it was enough money.

"While I do love the Colonel for helping me quadruple my business in this last month, I'm stretched thin as it is with all these orders. I've already got a backlog of 10,000 spears we're working on now, another 1,000 halberds, 2,000 cavalry swords and sheathes, and now this. I couldn't possibly expand my production more without charging the Colonel more," Messier Languedoc stated. "We have to sextuple the size of our building next month as it is, and we've got to pay for all that."

"Well if you can't do it then-"

"No, no, no," Messier Languedoc interrupted, "I can do it, but it'll cost your Colonel 10 Francs a sword."

It took Natalie some delicate haggling, but she finally sweet-talked the owner into making the swords for six Francs, which was a Franc lower than the last blacksmith she'd talked to. Having just had her hand shaken vigorously by ten large men and completed a tough negotiation, she was rather exhausted and looking forward to going back home.

Curly-haired, cute Pierre, however, was leaning against a post staring right at her.

"Is something the matter?"

"I was just wondering if I might ask you what your name was," Pierre said.

"It's Natalie."

Pierre sighed, looking right at her, all the while Natalie began feeling an odd, soaring, exuberant feeling bubbling up at being the center of his attention.

"Natalie, this might be offensive, but I was wondering, do claymores ever have relationships?"

"Of course they have relationships," Natalie snapped. "How else could Nadia, Alessandra or Julia be married then?"

"Oh," Pierre said, looking relieved. "Well then, can I ask who you're seeing?"

"I'm not seeing anyone," Natalie harrumphed, "why?"

"Would you like to go out with me?"

"Eh?"

Pierre seemed to realize how abrupt this proposition was, so he changed tack, "Of course, your mother could chaperone. We could take it easy, you know, go someplace nice, like say Mascherano's?"

"M-"

"Look," Pierre said, cutting her off, "I know it costs a fortune to eat there. But I've made loads of money since your mom took over the Holy Guards, so don't worry about the money. Come on, it'd be fun."

"Ah well," Natalie said, unknowingly edging backwards as Pierre approached, smiling, "it does sound nice..."

"Great! How about we go there together tomorrow night?"

Natalie had backed up so far her backside had hit the side of the Languedoc blacksmith. As a claymore, weak though she was, she'd never really feared a man in combat. But here against the charms of a cute, earnest and likable teenage boy, her sword seemed wholly useless.

"Do you usually ask most girls out like this?"

"I only ask out beautiful girls, and most of those are too conceited to be interested in guys their own age," Pierre admitted.

"But, but...but I'm not beautiful," Natalie sighed, looking down and away from Pierre.

"Of course you are," Pierre reassured, putting a hand up on the wall behind her while leaning over to look her in the eyes. "You've got the most exquisite hair of any girl I've ever seen."

This last point Pierre emphasized by sifting through her long, curly hair with his free hand while leaning yet closer. Natalie began to feel as if her knees were going to melt any moment, and her racing heartbeat wasn't helping her think clearly either. A feeling she had never quite had before began racing through her. Pierre leaned in towards her, his lips pursed, and her heartbeat skyrocketed again in anticipation.

"That's far enough!"

Pierre jumped back, startled, while Natalie felt her stress skyrocket as she looked to her left to see a rapidly approaching Nadia. Nadia was wearing the chain-mail tunic, steel pauldrons, and navy-blue leather of a warrior, and an expression that suggested outrage. Although Nadia was hard to miss both in terms of yoki signature and build, Natalie had somehow completely missed her approach. Nadia's chest was barely heaving, although the short, curly-haired and almost ridiculously voluptuous Nadia looked incredibly relieved, as if winning a race against disaster.

Nadia continued the harangue to Natalie's mortification, "Where did you think you were putting that hand, Monsieur lady killer?"

Nadia emphasized this point by walking up and pressing a pointed finger to his chest.

"Just wait a moment," Pierre guffawed, clearly shaken by the sudden arrival of a far older, far more confident and clearly annoyed claymore.

"I saw you reaching around behind her back you scamp," Nadia accused Pierre. "You were going to grab her ass, weren't you?"

"I was just going to put my hand around her waist," Pierre pleaded while a crowd of onlookers mortified Natalie with yet more embarrassment.

"Unlikely," Nadia replied. "Come on Natalie, let's go. You wouldn't want Miria wondering why you were taking so long, would you?"

Natalie hesitated for just a moment, so Nadia took matters into her own hands. She found herself with Nadia's arm behind her back, coaxing her forward. Natalie could only spare a short, hopeful glimpse back at Pierre before the crowded streets of Rabona blocked the view.

"You know Natalie, you shouldn't get swept off your feet the first time a guy ever takes an interest in you," Nadia lectured.

"I want to go back," Natalie complained. "Why can't I go see him again?"

"Because he tried to take advantage of you," Nadia smartly replied, "and that makes him not worthy of you."

Natalie sighed; Nadia's reasoning was hard to fault, even if she had found every moment of the quick encounter thrilling.

"But I kind of wanted him to take advantage of me," Natalie blushed.

"Well, I suppose that's only natural when you've never experienced the attentions of a boy before," Nadia relented a little, "but for goodness sake Natalie, you should know what kind of hell there'd be if your mother were to find out."

They were walking briskly now, most townspeople so used to claymores they barely spared more than a cursory glance at them. They turned a corner and suddenly, far in the distant north of town, Natalie could spot the outline of Rabona's old keep; home. It was a perfectly sunny day, although Nadia had kept it from being a truly thrilling day in Natalie's opinion. Plus there was the matter which Nadia had just mentioned concerning Miria.

"Miria's not my actual mom you know, so why should I care if she gets upset?"

"Oh, and I never really married Raul," Nadia replied.

"You didn't?" Natalie asked in shock, "But Sister Galatea told me it's a cardinal sin to-"

"I was being sarcastic Natalie," Nadia informed her, smirking. "You're only fooling yourself talking like that. Miria's been mothering you for the last two years."

"She's not my mom, she's-"

"Oh really, and who was it you had to get permission from to buy some lovebirds last week?"

"Well, I didn't have any money, so I had to get some from mom...I mean-"

"Ah hah, undone by your own emotions I see! You get allowance money from Miria and even call her "mom" on accident. You might as well accept that Miria's your mom, Natalie," Nadia lectured while they walked through the dense city crowds, "because everyone thinks you're her daughter anyways. Even Raki noticed you were Miria's favorite two years ago."

Natalie silently accepted this with mixed feelings, although there was some comfort to it all. They got to Rabona's Orthodox Avenue, which was covered in cobblestones and bordered by large six-story blockhouses, merchant houses, luxury manors, large banks, and high-priced inns. It was bustling like always, horse-drawn wagons and carriages on both sides of its plant-festooned dividing islands. These in truth were nothing more than brick-walled platforms with soil planted within, but they housed countless varieties of flowers and regularly spaced, well-trimmed trees.

It took a moment to walk north across the east-west Orthodox Avenue, but once across they found a scene: Renee being harassed by a half dozen drunken members of the Bishop's Guard.

"So wench," one drunken guardsman addressed Renee, who was seated at a table with the pigtailed Alexandra, "why don't you ditch the bitch and head back to my place?"

"Hey babe, how about a roll in the hay?"

The harassments kept coming, despite Renee not responding to any of it.

Natalie whispered to Nadia, "Uh, what's a roll in the hay?"

"Ask your mother later; I want you to cover your ears now," Nadia instructed.

Natalie covered her ears, and as they watched from several dozen yards away the yelling got louder. One of the guards attempted to grab Renee's seated behind. Renee reacted by kicking her claymore, which was lying slanted against the table. It spun and smacked the man unconscious in a spectacularly silky move with the spinning flat of the blade. The others rushed to grab Renee, uttering what surely were curses. Even Nadia yelled out in alarm.

Six seconds later it was all over, with Renee standing nonchalantly over the unconscious bodies of six guardsmen.

Natalie let out a victory whoop, "Yeah Renee, you showed them. You really fucking beat the shit out of them!"

"Natalie," Nadia shouted, "where did you learn such language?"

Natalie realized she was in trouble when Renee looked over in astonishment as if she hadn't heard Natalie quite right.

"Uh, well, Aunt Helen said it was just a victory chant," Natalie whispered. "What was wrong about saying it? Was it the fuc-"

"Natalie! You should know better than just saying whatever Helen tells you," Renee said, looking very disappointed while stepping over one recently awakened but inert, groaning guardsman.

"I'm sorry, it's just that Helen said saying that would get me respect," Natalie apologized, trying her best to hold off tears.

"Well I guess we've got to make sure you know better than to say profanities," Renee sighed.

"But how do I get respect when all anyone respects me for is my cooking?"

Renee pursed her lips, looking around at the shocked onlookers giving Renee a respectful berth as she walked past the unconscious, drunk Bishop's Guardsmen.

"You want my opinion?"

"Well yes," Natalie admitted.

"The only way you'll ever truly gain respect is if you do something incredible," Renee advised.

"Oh come on Renee," Nadia snapped, "how is Natalie going to be able to do something incredible in combat if no one is even willing to train her?"

"Then I will in my spare time, that is if you want to train with me," Renee offered.

"You're the best Renee," Natalie said, hugging and then kissing her on both cheeks.

"Natalie," Renee interjected, annoyed at being kissed, "I won't train you if this keeps up."

Natalie stopped to appease Renee, who was not known to have an over-affectionate nature.

"Umm," she stammered, a thought occurring to her abruptly.

"Oh come on," Nadia urged, "out with it!"

"But what if mother refuses to allow me to train?"

"Then we'll just train in secret," Renee replied, not showing an ounce of concern.

"But-"

"The only way to make tough decisions is to follow your heart Natalie," Nadia interrupted. "That's the way I decided to marry Raul. Miria loves you, but someday you're going to have to make a decision on your own that she disagrees with. You can't remain Miria's little girl forever Natalie."

"So then," Renee continued, "are you still going to train with me if Miria says no or not?"

"Well..."

"Oh come on Natalie," Renee complained, "make up your mind!"

Natalie looked at Nadia, who sighed, then looked at the unconscious guardsmen Renee had so superbly knocked out in three moves: a roundhouse kick, an uppercut punch, and a split-leg kick.

"If I train with you can you teach me how to do that?"

Renee looked back at the unconscious guardsmen, "Well actually, that's kind of hard to teach. You've got to be mad as hell to do it."

* * *

"So that's how babies are made?"

Miria nodded in assent to Natalie, who had had no clue about sex or the nature of relationships, and more alarmingly, according to Nadia, evidently had very little armor against male seduction. Nadia and Renee had brought back a wide-eyed, apologetic Natalie back to her office, explaining what had happened earlier while Natalie had sat before her, apparently mortified with embarrassment. Miria had reprimanded Natalie for using profanities, but Natalie seemed to take that lesson well. However, in contrast, it had taken the better part of an hour for Miria to delicately explain just how men and women loved each other in private to an astounded, alarmingly interested Natalie.

"Then, if I wanted to, I could bring Pierre back to my room to have sex?"

Miria groaned, "Natalie, you're not going to do any such thing while I'm your mother!"

Natalie replied by using a revealingly naïve logic, "But you said it was fun mom! What's wrong with having sex with other people?"

"You can't just have sex with other people. You need to be sure they're the right one, and get married first," Miria answered while sitting behind her command desk.

"But you said you slept with Cid, and you two aren't even married! How come-"

"Alright, alright," Miria relented, realizing her utter hypocrisy, "so maybe you can experiment around, but not with too many people."

"But wouldn't you want to sleep around to find out who was the most fun in bed?"

"You won't do that unless you want people to think you're a slut," Miria sniffed, slightly annoyed at where the conversation was going.

"What's a slut?"

Miria paused to consider an example that would sufficiently deter Natalie.

"Someone like Helen," Miria explained to a gasping Natalie.

If there was one person Natalie was absolutely dead-set on not being compared with, it was Helen. Miria felt more assured of Natalie's future behavior with the outburst that followed, "Then I will never be a slut!"

"That's my girl," Miria praised Natalie, then remembered Natalie had a tendency to repeat things at awkward times, "and don't you EVER tell Helen I said that."

Natalie nodded agreement, then asked, "So, can I date Pierre now?"

"Not until you're eighteen," Miria said, shooting an eager Natalie down.

"Why the frickin' hell not?"

"YOU WILL NOT TALK TO ME THAT WAY YOUNG LADY!"

Miria had stood up and then used Yoma energy to enhance the volume of her voice and lower it to intimidating octaves. The effect was enough to utterly terrify Natalie into submission. Her daughter was now hiding behind the chair, too scared to even look over it at Miria.

"Natalie," Miria sighed.

Natalie wasn't budging. Miria decided to walk around to reassure the girl, although Natalie pathetically tried to crouch away. Miria sighed, gently grabbing the quietly crying Natalie, then cradled Natalie in her arms.

"I'm sorry I yelled so loudly dear," Miria apologized, "I guess this is what I get for having you share a bedroom with Helen."

Natalie whispered, still crying, "Mom, if I can't date Pierre, can I at least join the army and fight with you?"

"Natalie, please, I understand how much you want to fight, but it would be too painful for me to watch," Miria reasoned with her now quiet, unresisting daughter, "No mother wants to see her children on a battlefield, even a claymore like me."

"But can't I train with someone to get stronger so you don't have to worry about me at least?"

Miria relented, "Alright, but you know I won't have time to train you."

"That's okay; Renee offered to train me today as long as I didn't hug her," Natalie whispered.

Miria felt a silent amusement at this statement while leading Natalie to the office's open door.

"Oh, by the way Natalie, how would you feel about not rooming with Helen?"

Natalie's eyes immediately blinked open at these words, much to Miria's bemusement.

Natalie could not quite resist a question, "You mean I'll be rooming with Renee?"

"Would having your own bedroom satisfy you?"

"Wha...how?"

Miria smiled at Natalie's astonished joy, so in contrast to the fearful melancholy of half a minute prior, "I bought the large house across the street next to Nadia's place."

"You mean the really nice, six-story one? Is it the house with all the balconies, the courtyard in the back, plus all that really nice furniture?"

Miria grinned, "Yes, that one. I just bought it this morning, and we move in tomorrow. I was going to give you the entire sixth floor to live on, how does that-"

Miria was interrupted by over-affectionate, grateful hugging by Natalie.

"Alright then, as long as you're good you can live with me," Miria told Natalie, who nodded in agreement with the terms.

"Thanks mom," Natalie whispered, a little fear still in Natalie's yoki, if not the exuberant skipping out into the hall that came afterwards.

Miria turned back to hours of grueling work until a knock came late at night, her command office lit only by a quartet of overhead candles.

"Come in," Miria said to whomever was knocking on her office's door.

Cid entered a moment later wearing a golden-colored military tunic and white cloak.

"Evening Colonel," Cid said rather stiffly.

"Good evening. What brings you up here this late?"

"I wanted to talk about us," Cid admitted.

He looked rather expectantly at her, so Miria made the first move.

"I know I screwed up Cid. I shouldn't have just taken off without telling you I planned to be gone so long. I'm sorry for what I put you through...for not believing there was something more between us," Miria apologized.

Cid sat quietly in the chair before her desk, "Actually Miria, I came because my uncle has asked me to consider an arranged marriage to the daughter of Lord Staufen."

"Well you're not," Miria objected.

"How can you object when you took off on me for two years without even letting me know?"

Miria rounded the desk and dropped into a protesting Cid's lap, wrapping her arms around him.

"I am not going to live the rest of my life in regret watching you wind up with another woman," Miria stated firmly, then emphasized by kissing Cid on the neck.

"Miria, please, if that was going to work I wouldn't be here," Cid protested as her seductive affections began.

She straddled his waist, roaming her hands all over him, and rubbed her chest against his as she covered his neck in kisses. Abruptly Miria noticed something warm hardening underneath her.

"Oh really, and why is it Monsieur happy isn't agreeing with you?"

"Miria please," Cid protested as she kissed him on the cheek.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be enjoying this Cid," Miria noted with a wry grin. "So why are your hands where they are?"

Cid had grabbed her around the low of her back, and his hands were already sinking lower.

"Ok, so maybe I've been wanting this for the last twenty months," Cid admitted. "You know, I have to admit when I first met you I didn't think you'd be like this in private."

Miria leaned in towards Cid's mouth, "You know what they say about books. You shouldn't judge a girl just from her appearance."

Miria and Cid locked lips and shared a short, passionate kiss. Miria switched into action, grabbed Cid and flattened him against her desk and then jumped on top of him.

"The only way you're leaving this room, Cid Malaga," Miria said while pressing her bosom against Cid's face, "is when you've had some sense screwed into you."

Cid for once grinned, no longer resisting, "Alright, I surrender, just please keep talking dirty or I might reconsider."


	5. Chapter 4: Rising Tensions

**Chapter 4: Rising Tensions**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**Much has been said of Rabona's Holy Guards, from their stately armor to their venerable traditions. However, the fact that the Holy Guards' historians were more obsessed with their finery and armor than fighting abilities was telling. In the year 1 B.L.E., when a massive Awakened Being attacked the holy city, the Guards' incompetence was on full display. Although the Guards' officers Captain Cid Malaga and Captain Francois Galacon (AKA "Galk") tactical competence was evident in attacking the Awakened, their lacking weapons was just as evident. This was in fact due to a century-old ruling by the Rabona Orthodox Church, which had astonishingly banned offensive weapons like bows. It was not until after the incident was ended by the famous "Phantom" Miria and her warriors that a hasty reconsideration on this irrational ban was made.**

**However, it would not be until the siege of Rabona that the Church's incompetence in military affairs was to be completely revealed...**

* * *

**Diary of "Phantom" Miria, Colonel and commanding officer of the Rabona Holy Guards**

**15th of November, 2 1/3 years after the Organization's defeat**

_I apologize to whomever shall wind up reading this for not writing much in the last few months. I at least have some small excuse; the Rabona Holy Guards reorganization is proving taxing. When I first arrived here on the 22nd of August, I expected some semblance of competence. However, the Holy Guardsmen are less soldiers than they are glorified and vastly overpaid guards. We had to invent a system of flags to coordinate battlefield commands, as the Holy Guards had no battlefield communications and command system._

_Since arriving I've had to completely reorganize everything, and it's proved an enormous pain. For instance, it turns out Rabona doesn't even have enough nearby mines to provide the iron needed to make the steel armor and swords for another 1000 men we're training. I had to send Nadia up to Pieta temporarily to get them to ship iron on boats down the Toulouse River from their mines in exchange for goods, gold coins and finished weapons._

_Just when one problem is vanquished though, I find another. Food is starting to become a serious issue. It turns out the story of the warriors saving Rabona has spread across the island. As a result, the population of Rabona's increased by half, food prices skyrocketed and almost bankrupted my plans until we started food imports from northern plains of Toulouse. The stink of this city has increased continually, to the point where we now burn incense candles in Rabona's old great tower._

_Renee tells me she's detected some yoki far to the east, at least twenty strong by her estimate. I would ask Galatea to confirm this, but lately Galatea's been uncooperative. When I asked her to help with training Natalie, Galatea instead half-trained her, then spent the other half of her time trying to convert Natalie to the Orthodox faith. Of course, as I was busy elsewhere, Galatea was getting away with this. Well, for a few days anyway, right up until Commanders Nadia and Renee waltzed in on Galatea pleading with Natalie not to die a heathen._

_Renee evidently came within inches of punching Galatea, or so she tells me, furious that Galatea was forcing her religious beliefs upon Natalie. Nadia's got a cooler head on her shoulders and held Renee back long enough to allow Galatea to leave. I once thought Galatea knew better than to tempt my anger, but evidently her thinking's changed. As Renee told me, "Why would you scare her? She's much more scared of god's judgment than anything you could do to her Miria. Let's face facts, the b—ch has become an untrustworthy zealot devoted to the church more than her former comrades!"_

* * *

"Rise and shine Lieutenant Clarice."

Clarice blinked her eyes to find Captain Tabitha's face mere inches from her own. Tabitha was wearing her usual navy-blue leather outfit with two pauldrons strapped onto her shoulders, and leaned back to allow her to stand up.

Clarice yawned, asking, "How early is it?"

Tabitha remarked diffidently, "The sun just rose a minute ago. Colonel Miria expects us to accomplish the mission in nothing less than sterling speed, so get ready to go."

It was a point which Tabitha emphasized by walking over to the campfire and banging a pot suspended between two stakes on a modest rope.

Tabitha shouted, "Rise and shine girls!"

Clarice looked around Tabitha and the campground, which was situated atop a small hill in the midst of a thick forest not far from a tranquil stream. Another eight blond-haired warriors dressed similarly to Tabitha were stretching, yawning and standing up. One of them, gangly legged, with waist-long straight blond hair and younger looks than the rest hopped before Clarice and Tabitha.

"Mother," the girl enthusiastically addressed her. "Are we going yet?"

Tabitha interjected, looking cross and a little testy at not being addressed, "I'm the one in command Lieutenant Miata. We will get going once everyone's eaten and put on armor, neither of which you two have done."

Clarice looked down as Tabitha spoke, grabbed her pair of shoulder plates, and then strapped on both gray steel pauldrons. Miata followed her example as Tabitha trudged off examining the others, who quickly did likewise. They ate breakfast before Tabitha quenched the fire with a little water from the cooking pot.

They were soon running through forests, prairies, over hills, into meadows and up mountains, jumping along the way over numerous fallen logs, rocks, streams, creeks, marshes and rivers. The day was half-gone, and although it was only their second day of travel, Tabitha was already pushing the pace beyond what some of the girls of the 'Elite Guard' were used to. Several of the less conditioned members of the Elite Guard were beginning to pant in exhaustion and fall behind.

The countryside was nearly blurring in Clarice's vision as she attempted to keep up with Captain Tabitha's torrid pace. The Elite Guard was moving in a loose diamond formation, with Tabitha in front, whom Clarice was just behind. They were running through a meadow, parting the long grass like the wind. With an easy leap, they all cleared a row of hedges at its edge, landing on the edge of a vast forest. Clarice looked back and saw a girl lagging badly behind them, wheezing in exhaustion.

Clarice doubled back a little to help the slightly pudgy claymore out, a look that did not work well with skin-tight leather.

Clarice asked, "What's your name?"

Clarice asked the girl while adding her own tug to further the girl's forward momentum.

"My name's Julia, Lieutenant Clarice," the girl gasped, both of them jumping over a log, although Julia's legs barely cleared it.

Clarice questioned, "Do you need a rest?"

Julia, too out of breath and out of shape to respond, merely nodded as she began to slow further. Even after reducing her pace, Clarice decided Julia needed a breather.

"Captain Tabitha," Clarice called out as Julia continued to struggle.

Tabitha glanced back and slowed down her torrid pace a little as they jumped over a modest creek, clearing its banks easily. Julia however barely managed to clear the banks and her strength was clearly waning.

"Yes," Tabitha acknowledged her at once, noticing the problem, "Very well Lieutenant Clarice, we'll take a short break."

They stopped atop the nearest cleared hillside, where they had their first glimpse of the distant sea. Julia, having caught up after lagging behind, was not given time to rest, but instead was immediately confronted by Captain Tabitha.

Tabitha huffed, "What's this all about? The rest of the squad can keep up." Tabitha muttered not very sympathetically, the tight hair-bun and small bangs giving Tabitha a very stern appearance that seemed to intimidate the shorter Julia, along with Tabitha's greater height.

"I'm sorry Captain," the elven-eared Julia gasped. "I'm just not used to this pace."

Tabitha snapped, "What's your name and former rank?"

"My name's Julia, and I'm the former number 45 in the Organization," Julia admitted.

Julia was a slight-built girl with a pudgy belly, and had wide-set eyes, a pointy nose, a long forehead but shorter chin, and had her straight brown-blond hair falling down to the shoulders.

"Your rank is no excuse," Tabitha said, low. "I'd guess you haven't done any training in the past two years, have you?"

"No, sorry Captain Tabitha," Julia miserably apologized.

"Lieutenant Miata?"Tabitha loudly called out as Julia suddenly stopped inhaling air at the name "Miata".

Miata, now the same height as Captain Tabitha, was almost immediately at Tabitha's side, doing a reasonable imitation of a military salute.

"Yes ma'am," Miata acknowledged.

"I want you to put Julia through conditioning and train with her," Tabitha ordered.

At this Julia promptly fainted away, Julia's head saved from hammering the ground only by Clarice's timely intervention while Miata and Tabitha looked on, stunned. A half dozen of the girls jumped to Julia's side, attempting to awaken the poor girl with everything from pepper to pouring water on Julia's face.

"Did I say something wrong Clarice?"

Tabitha seemed a little shaken as all nine of the other Elite Guards clustered around Julia.

"Captain, while I love Miata, I would never, ever, recommend Miata to condition someone like Julia. They are night and day in terms of conditioning, and Miata," Clarice said while looking at her adoptive daughter apologetically, "I don't think your habit of extreme force in routine life is a good idea on someone more fragile than me."

"Duly noted," Tabitha commented before turning to attend to Julia.

Miata put on a hurt face, then walked over, pleading, "But mother, what if I was really gentle?"

"Oh alright, fine, if you're real gentle on her, I'll let you have a boyfriend," Clarice sighed.

"You're the best mom," Miata said, hugging Clarice so tight Clarice could barely breathe.

"Miata," Clarice gasped.

"I'm sorry, please don't be mad mommy," Miata apologized.

Julia was waking up, her eyes blinking, then stared blankly for a moment before Julia asked Clarice, "How long was I out?"

"You were out just a few minutes."

She turned from Julia to still visibly annoyed Tabitha, "Captain Tabitha, I..."

"Alright, fine, Miata, take it easy on Julia, but make certain she pushes herself," Captain Tabitha amended her prior orders.

Julia breathed a sigh of relief before hopping to her feet and fully waking up.

"Captain, I think I sense the Yoma," Miata commented, sniffing the air experimentally.

Tabitha closed her eyes a moment. "You're right Lieutenant Miata; it seems they've just finished a meal about an hour's run from here."

They resumed their Yoma hunt, moving with urgency towards the Yoma's location as indicated by her adopted daughter, the prodigal warrior, Miata, and Captain Tabitha, who seemed at times to be consciously modeling her behavior after that of Miria's.

It took an hour of running through mixed terrain until they at last caught sight of their would-be prey. The Yoma were all male, moving in a pack disguised as a group of travelers on the road. They were moving towards Rabona, most looking fairly relaxed.

"Into the ditches," Tabitha ordered them, "Lieutenant Clarice, take three others to the left."

"Yes Ma'am," Clarice acknowledged.

"Sergeant Ursula." Tabitha called quietly to a tall claymore with a pixie haircut, "take three others to the ditch on the right. Lieutenant Miata and I will stay back in the woods until stepping out onto the road at the right moment. All this requires is for us to wait for them to come to us," Tabitha explained.

Clarice crouched down in her ditch as Ursula did likewise on the opposite side, Tabitha and Miata waiting further back. They'd spotted the Yoma on a hill, and were protected from discovery by a bend in the decrepit dirt road. The Yoma and their carriages walked straight into the trap while everyone held their breath, hidden from view by a number of small bushes.

Tabitha and Miata sprung the trap by calmly walking into the center of the road. This didn't produce the reaction Clarice expected Tabitha and Miata to create however. Rather than transforming to fight, the Yoma surrounding the two wagons looked up in mild surprise. The lead Yoma came forward, saying something none of them could quite understand. He looked almost as if he was about to salute when Tabitha rushed forward, drawing her sword.

The Yoma's shock at being attacked equaled Tabitha's surprise at the Yoma's actions.

Julia whispered, "What the hell is going on Clarice?"

Clarice didn't answer, but instead grabbed Julia's hand, "No time for that Julia, let's go!"

Together they drew out their swords and charged. Clarice aimed at the Yoma who had transformed to Tabitha's left. He barely had time to jump when her blade met his body. He flew a short way, sans both of his lower legs, landing with a guttural yowl at Tabitha's feet. Tabitha, having already decapitated the lead Yoma, merely stabbed down into the Yoma's head.

Miata jumped over Tabitha's head as Ursula's group began engaging the Yoma. While mid-jump, Miata hacked off a pair of Yoma fingers shooting towards her out of the first wagon. Landing atop of its canopy, Miata made a blizzard of blurred sword swings, which sent blood, Yoma body parts, and white canopy canvas flying. When Miata had finished, the wagon was nothing but a collection of six Yoma bodies and an enormous amount of purple blood and bloodied canvas.

The remaining Yoma attempted to run for it, but pixie-haired Ursula cut them off. Ursula barely dodged four different attacking Yomas' attacks at once by going airborne. A fifth Yoma suddenly sprouted wings in the open second wagon, and took off to intercept the back-flipping Ursula.

He was intercepted by Miata, who in a stunning show of athletic dexterity had jumped three stories into the air. Miata smashed him out of the air with a steel-toed left kick to his neck. With this stunning display accomplished, Miata added to it by landing atop him, and with zest decapitated him in a superb one-handed spin of her sword.

Clarice tore herself away from watching Miata and instead charged the remaining ten Yoma with the Elite Guard's eight other comrades. The Yoma were now wearing looks of panic upon their horrific monstrous, sharp-toothed faces. Tabitha added to it by chopping three of them in half in a single horizontal sweep of her blade, charging through them with ease.

As Tabitha jumped out of the way of the survivors' counterattacks, Tabitha brought down one with a vicious slash to the back. Julia finished it off by jabbing her sword into its back, out through its chest, and then slashing up, splitting its chest and head in half. A horrific spurt of blood gushed out, which Julia barely dodged.

Miata jumped into the center of a group of four Yoma, and then whipped the blade around her. The Yoma had scarcely moved when their body parts began littering the road, their blood spilling out. The other girls slashed down the remaining Yoma in rapid succession, all except for one.

This particular Yoma raced into the nearby dense deciduous forest, dodging half a dozen swings from various warriors before breaking free of the ambush. Miata, along with Tabitha and Ursula were still flicking purple Yoma blood off their swords when Clarice ran after the lone Yoma.

Ursula shouted, "Wait for us Clarice!"

Clarice didn't stop for Ursula or the others as she raced after the Yoma and into the dense forest. Clarice caught glimpses of the Yoma as it weaved a zigzag course through the dense forest. She ducked under a dense fir tree branch and reached a cliff-side, where the Yoma had stopped. The others clustered around her as the Yoma considered its lack of options against ten experienced warriors. Abruptly it simply jumped off the cliff.

They all walked carefully forward to look; the cliff was hundreds of feet high. What remained of the Yoma at its bottom was little more than a carcass bobbing occasionally as the rocks upon which it died were hit by a wave...of red blood. Julia wretchedly threw up her prior meal while some of the others turned away.

The entire bay they could see was totally full of red blood in places, and bobbing in the bay were the remnants of a once mighty fleet of warships. Most were little more than floating wooden boards now, but portions of others remained. A few were better preserved, but were covered in arrows and dead bodies. Throughout the water dead men's' bodies bobbed, all of them lifeless.

A number of ships further out were even burning, and the numbers of both annihilated ships and dead bodies was staggering. In the water numerous shark's fins were thrashing about, chomping down on their latest free meal. Overhead a literal storm of seagulls swooped, many landing upon the ships and even the dead bodies in the water to eat.

Most of the girls turned away, all except for Clarice, Tabitha, Miata and Ursula.

Tabitha surveyed the scene before darkly commenting on it.

"It seems the continental war has finally come to our shores. Good grief, just look at the scale; the whole Bay of Konstanz is littered with the remains of this battle. Does anyone see a live person in all of that mess?"

They all scanned the sickening scene before giving up.

"No Captain," Miata whispered, looking remarkably calm.

The others nodded their heads in agreement.

"We have to inform Colonel Miria of this immediately. Ursula, Alessandra," Tabitha called, and two girls taller than Tabitha stepped forward, "I want you to be ready to take a priority message to Colonel Miria."

"Shouldn't we get going now?"

Tabitha shook her head at the questioner, Alessandra; "Before I've even got a preliminary report Alessandra? Lieutenant Clarice," Tabitha motioned her forward. Clarice walked up expecting orders from Tabitha.

"Yes Captain?"

"I want you to take three others east along the shore and tell me if you find anything." Tabitha ordered with a serious, business-like air.

"What may I ask will you be doing with the others Captain?"

Tabitha nodded back towards the forest, "we'll see if we can find anything on the Yoma, and once we're done with that, I'll be sending out a message to Miria. The Colonel's going want to know about this."

* * *

"So Helen," a voice asked her, "how do you think you did on the test?"

Helen looked up to find Nadia, dressed as usual in navy-blue leather, leaning over the desk to her left.

"Better than usual I think Commander."

Nadia, who besides being known for her voluptuous curves and stocky legs, recently became known as the Commander of her own heavily armored swordsmen battalion.

Nadia grinned, "So then, Colonel Miria's 'tough love' made an impression on you, did it?"

They were sitting in a war classroom on the fourth floor of Rabona's old tower, where all the ex-Organization soldiers lived. The classroom had a green chalkboard in front, while to her left, three rows past Nadia, was the door to the central hallway. There were a number of square windows behind and to the right letting in the morning light. The room had six rows and six columns of wooden desks, each stuffed with parchment, quills, and personal belongings.

"Look," Helen snapped at Nadia, "I knew big sis was nearing her limits with me, so I had to do better. I've stopped sleeping around with subordinates and anyone in the army. Plus, I had my company of pikemen do the most strenuous tasks to prepare them for what's coming. With any luck, we'll impress Miria by the time we deploy. You never know Nadia," Helen sighed, "big sis might just make me a Commander!"

"That's got about as good a chance as the world being round Captain," Nadia sighed.

"Ah come on, how am I supposed to be motivated when everyone keeps saying that?"

Nadia's head turned away as the hallway door clicked open to reveal a number of silver-eyed comrades. One of them was the white-haired Captain Virginia, who had become the teacher of both battle tactics and literacy to human and silver-eyed officers. Virginia settled down at the ornate desk situated in the room's far right corner, clutching a pile of parchment. Virginia looked tired as she twirled her waist-long, braided ponytail absentmindedly with one hand.

An athletic claymore dressed in navy-blue leather with a large hair-bun atop her head approached them, smiling at them as she sat down atop Nadia's desk. The silver-eyed witch was very skinny and also short, with little in the way of 'meat' on her butt or bosom.

"Hello Valencia," Nadia said to the newcomer. "Why are you looking so cheerful about?"

"The latest gossip," Valencia remarked, pausing to cast a glance over at Virginia, who was looking through the piles of parchment still. Valencia pressed on when it appeared Virginia was oblivious to their conversation. "Alexandra claims she saw Cid enter Miria's office..."

"They're back together aren't they? Oh this is so juicy!"

Nadia grinned after asking. Valencia merely nodded and confirmed Nadia's suspicion: "I'd been expecting that for awhile now. Miria's been in an unusually forgiving mood for the last two days, so I figured something had happened."

"Go on," Nadia told Valencia.

"What I don't get is why Cid is her paramour," Valencia sighed, "I mean what exactly is compatible between them?"

"I think you guys are mistaking how their relationship started," Helen answered Valencia, drawing disbelieving stares from Nadia and the others who hadn't noticed her listening in.

"How would you know anything Helen?" Nadia had asked with a tone that suggested amused disbelief.

"I only lived with her the nine-plus years," Helen butted back.

"Touché, right you are Helen!" Nadia smiled.

Helen started talking while Nadia and Valencia politely listened, "Miria says that after her half-awakening ten years ago, she began feeling more interested in men. She was curious why all the hotel maids were raving about their boyfriends in the days after we overthrew the Organization. Galk was still married at the time, so she asked out Cid. Things went better than she expected, so she kept seeing him. I think Miria enjoyed the physical side of the relationship, but apparently Cid totally fell for her."

"Well, what kind of guy wouldn't fall for Miria?" Valencia exclaimed with unfortunate timing, as another dozen claymores had just entered the room.

Nina walked over; leading all of them over as Virginia frowned, glancing up from the room's sizable desk.

Nina whispered, "Alright, so what are you troublemakers talking about?"

"Just Miria's love life," Valencia smirked, adjusting the enormous hair bun on top of her head.

Nina sat down before replying, "Well then, do continue!"

The other dozen silver-eyed girls crowded around, Valencia, Nina and Nadia listening in intently as Helen continued: "I don't think Miria originally knew what she was getting herself into. Well, I don't think any of us knew what we were getting ourselves into when we started seeing guys."

Nina asked, "Why exactly did a bunch of us start having relations with men anyways?"

"Miria might survive without companionship, as did we all," Helen hit back, "but it's a lot less stressful when you have a guy to listen to your problems, to fawn over you, praise you, and make love to you when you want."

Nina sighed, "Yeah, but that still—"

Nadia interjected, "Oh come on Nina, this isn't that hard to understand. Some of the girls were attracted to men, so it's only natural—"

"It was not natural," Nina objected. "I never saw a warrior in the old days talking about cute guys or how great the prior night was. It just didn't happen. None of the girls had much sex drive."

Helen sighed, "That's because you never had partially awakened comrades. After Deneve and I partially awakened, we began to experience rare moments of lust and desire. We even experimented around with a few town drunks together. Once you partially awaken things change."

"Okay, I can buy that," Nina agreed, "but why are there warriors like Julia who haven't partially awakened and are married?"

Nadia smirked, "Nina, you do realize the only reason you didn't go hungry was that the townsfolk of Pieta were paying you to protect them, right?"

"What about it?"

Nadia leaned in, "When we wiped out the Organization and all the remaining Yoma and Awakened on this island, do you remember what happened next?"

Valencia chimed in, "We were out of a career; god did that suck. After we won we had the choice of killing humans as mercenaries or working as a lowly servant. You were lucky Nina. Those of us who wouldn't kill got stuck working as maids, exotic dancers, prostitutes, or becoming nuns."

Nina stammered, "But…"

Valencia shook her head, "We don't have any social standing in society, Nina. Nobody owes us a livelihood if they don't need something killed. It's not like we're nobility or are craftswomen. Julia couldn't find work, so she used her backup plan and got engaged to a baker. She had to survive somehow, and Thierry could provide for her, plus he's a nice guy."

Nadia commented, "I'd feel better about their relationship if Thierry wasn't throwing food at her like she's human. The poor girl finds it hard to say no, and just look at her pudgy belly. If I ever got that out of shape, Raul would get really annoyed."

"With Miata conditioning her, she ought to lose the belly in record time," Helen murmured.

Nadia added, "Let's get back to Miria. Helen, Miria wanted a man to ease her stress, right?"

"Well, I think that's what Miria originally intended," Helen answered honestly, "but things went beyond that. A few months ago Cid admitted he bought her an enormous diamond engagement ring."

"I wish my husband had that kind of money," Nadia sighed ruefully.

"Who cares about the money," a warrior with perfectly coiffed blond hair and a petite frame interjected. "When you can have a boyfriend that is that gorgeous—"

"I get the damn picture Camilla," Helen yelled, startling Nadia, Nina and the others while cutting Camilla off. "If you want to get Miria ticked off, keep talking. Somebody will tell Miria if you keep talking about envying her man."

"Sorry Helen," Camilla apologized to her. "I'll let you continue."

"Thank you so much Camilla," Helen sarcastically replied. "Now then, I don't know how much Miria likes or loves Cid, but it's probably more than before. But I think it's kind of tragic that he's fallen for her so completely."

Nadia incredulously asked, "Why the hell's that Helen? Miria's the best-looking of us, and she's intelligent, well-read, ambitious, charismatic and more. What more could a guy want?"

"I don't think Miria can ever truly love a man with all her heart unless he's her equal," Helen answered, quite sure in her appraisal of Miria's nature.

"Oh," Nina remarked in surprise. "Well, that's too bad Helen, because there's not a man on this island that's Miria's equal, not even Raki, wherever the hell Claire's got him stashed now. What Miria really needs is a brilliant male claymore who can-"

"Alright girls, you've spent enough time gossiping about your commanding officer's love life," Virginia snapped, interrupting them by stepping into the center of their conversation. "Everyone back to your seats, I'm handing back your latest battlefield tactics tests."

The rest of the silver-eyed girls filed back grudgingly to their desks and sat down. Virginia sat down at her desk, shuffling some parchment, and then eyed Helen keenly.

"Captain Helen, step forward please," Virginia stated loudly.

Fifteen pairs of silver eyes followed her as she walked to the head of class, a bead of sweat annoyingly forming above her lips. Virginia stood up while Helen felt her stress spike waiting for the reprimand that was surely coming.

"I have just completed grading your tests, and I want all of you to know," Virginia stated threateningly, "that I was very disappointed in some of you. In that light, I would ask those who need help to see Captain Helen, who got a perfect score on her exam."

Virginia handed her a parchment with her exam scores on it: a perfect 100 out of 100.

"Holy shit," Helen exclaimed, to which Virginia directed a cold stare, "sorry."

After the class most of the others left quickly, aside from Nadia, who walked into the candle-lit hallway with her. The hallway had four classroom doors, and was naturally illuminated by a pair of arched windows at the hallway's end to their right.

"Alright new golden girl," Nadia warned, staring her in the eyes. "What's the big secret?"

"No secret-"

"Fat chance Helen," Nadia exclaimed. "Since when did you ace your tests prior to now?"

"Ok, so I got some studying help from Tabitha," Helen admitted.

"So what did you give her in return?"

"You don't want to know," Helen replied. "It's Tabitha; use your imagination.

"No thank you," Nadia blushed as she turned around.

Nadia was walking to the winding stone staircase's door at the hallway's far end, which Nadia opened, then turned around. "I'm off to see my husband Raul. He's been mayor of Pieta since I left. I'll be a little "busy" for the next few days..."

Nadia left while smiling manically, and Helen grinned likewise at Nadia's statement. She might have kept grinning for awhile longer, but a familiar figure came through the staircase door in her full military garb, gold-gilded pauldrons and all. The figure passed by two pairs of ornate bronze candle-holders, then a pair of canvas paintings opposite one another, and then finally walked right by her until the figure turned to look at her.

"Why aren't you saluting?"

Renee asked with the air of one looking for an excuse to verbally spar, Renee's braided hair whipping sideways as she turned to address her.

"I don't salute arrogant bitches," Helen told Renee capriciously.

Renee's eyes narrowed, "Look Captain Helen," Renee hissed, "you are supposed to salute your superior officers no matter who they are."

"I don't remember you ordering me around Renee," Helen sniffed as nonchalantly as she dared.

"You see that list Helen, read the list of officers' ranks," Renee haughtily snapped at her.

"I can do it," another female interjected innocently.

Helen turned to look, as did Renee to see Natalie, her long hair glistening in the morning light as it fell past her shoulders, the light filtering in from the arched windows. Natalie was wearing the conventional warrior's outfit, but held a large tray full of steaming fish and fresh vegetables.

Renee asked, sounding amused, "What are you doing, food service?"

"Yes, but mother says I am an excellent cook," Natalie smiled contentedly.

Helen couldn't resist asking, "So what, are you not doing combat training?"

Natalie and Renee turned to face her both wearing weary, annoyed looks.

"Well, I'm training with Renee," Natalie admitted, sounding rather uncomfortable. "I'm perfectly able to fight, but mom won't let me do actual combat."

"Useless as always," Helen smirked.

"I am not useless!" Natalie continued on defensively, "It's just mother would rather I not get myself hurt, and Captain Virginia thinks I would make an excellent scholar."

"Natalie, could you read me that list right there," Renee interjected, changing the subject.

Natalie glanced at the piece of thin white paper bolted to the wall, and read, "Ranks of the officers of the Rabona Holy Guards Army...supreme commander, Bishop Vincent, commanding field officer, Colonel "Phantom" Miria, below that is the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, and then Commander, below whom is the Captain rank and-"

"Ha! As I told you Helen, I can order you around," Renee puffed her chest out. "How do you like dem apples?"

"Ok, first off Renee," Helen hissed back as Natalie looked on in unhappy realization of the context of Renee's remarks. "I may be a Captain, but you're not my commanding officer, Commander Galacon is. Secondly, my 'apples' have been savored far more than your ungainly melons."

It was a less than tactful reminder to Renee, who as far as anyone knew had never been with a man despite her spectacular, and in Helen's opinion, undeserved good looks.

"I don't see why that matters when I merely asked for the respect of the privileges of rank that I deserve as a senior officer," Renee harrumphed.

"Come on guys, if you don't want-," Natalie said before Helen cut Natalie off.

"You know what your problem is Renee? You're too damn proud of your status. Me on the other hand..."

"If I wanted to be regarded by my troops as a skank and having no respect for my own position as an officer-," Renee began.

"If you want a fistfight, I'm ready anytime," Helen yelled at Renee, both clenching their fists.

"Mother's going to be furious with you two if you-"

In unison they yelled at the terrified Natalie, "Shut up!"

"Get out of here, unless you want to get hurt," Renee warned.

"I don't want to hear threats about 'mother this' or 'mother that' Natalie. Miria's not your real mom, and we're not going to use our swords," Helen yelled at Natalie, whose eyes were already moist, appearing to be on the edge of tears.

An abrupt vicious blow of hard iron on top of her head changed the situation.

"What the hell," Helen angrily snorted, turning to find the source of the blow.

Right next to her was an elegant claymore warrior holding two pots in either hand.

"The two of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves!"

The long white-haired Virginia snapped at them in a harsh voice full of disapproval.

Virginia was a younger warrior than either of them, but had an elegant and noble appearance thanks to her long, simple ponytail and proud cheekbones. At the moment Virginia's face was wearing an expression of righteous indignation, her eyes level with theirs in a cold stare.

"I swear that I'm going to have you sacked from your post and then-," Renee threatened until Virginia cut Renee off.

"I have with me an order that concerns the fates of the two of you. Colonel Miria installed in me the authority to press forward with the implementation of the order forthwith and inform her at her convenience, so I scarcely need say-"

"Hold the horseshit," Helen interjected. "What the hell did ya just say?"

Virginia sniffed in indignation, "What I am saying Captain Helen and Commander Renee," Virginia said, looking her in the eyes before turning to Renee, "is that I have been granted the rank of the Army Inspector General."

Renee snapped, "I don't see how that is going to stop my court-martial for your behavior-"

Virginia waved off Renee's threat with a smile before rummaging in a pocket for something.

Virginia's hand emerged with a piece of white paper with what looked like Miria's beautiful handwriting upon it, then read it aloud: "Orders to Captain Virginia, Army Inspector General dated November 15th: 'You are hereby invested with my authority to sack those officers whose behavior is unbecoming of their rank. You are answerable only to me, and as such are immune from the rest of the chain of command's normal precedence of rank. I give you immediate authority to sack officers who have engaged in personal duels with swords, fists, bow and arrows, knives..."

"Let me see that," Renee snarled. Renee grabbed the paper and for once her pride rapidly diminished.

"The only question I have is why shouldn't I sack you two from your positions right now?" Virginia asked softly, but was carrying a figurative big stick neither she nor Renee could ignore.

Helen suggested, "We're too important to lose?"

"It's an interesting theory Captain Helen, but not true. As the great philosopher of war Heraclius wrote in the 2nd century, 'One must pick subordinates carefully, for having the wrong officers can do more damage to war-time plans than the most competent enemy. Therefore it is paramount for a leader to have underneath him only the most competent and trustworthy of subordinates, ones who will neither fight amongst themselves nor view themselves as irreplaceable," Virginia finished with a look of pride that was unmistakable.

Renee attempted to mollify Virginia's attitude with appeasement: "Now I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement."

Virginia took out a pen and another piece of clean paper from a small bag, "Well, let's see, I'll just date this, and with that..."

"Now wait a minute," Helen butted in as Renee looked on in shock and dismay, "your orders say you can only sack those who HAVE engaged in personal duels, don't they?"

"Well, yes," Virginia admitted with a note of annoyance in her voice.

"We didn't get into a fistfight, we merely clenched fists and threatened before you smashed a pot on each of our heads Captain Virginia," Helen finished.

Comprehension came to Renee's face while the smile vanished from Virginia's face.

"I stand corrected then Captain Helen. Very well, you may keep your ranks, but if there is a next time, and I find out about it even after the fact...," Virginia warned as she left them with Natalie.

Natalie was staring at them with a blank expression, and in reaction to which Helen snapped at Natalie, "What are you looking at, idiot?"

Natalie burst into tears, dropped her plate of fresh food, and ran out past an annoyed looking Virginia and into the stairwell.

"Well congratulations Captain Helen," Virginia hissed in disapproval. "You've succeeded in making a 16-year-old girl cry. Are you happy now?"

"She's an idiot in combat even if she's good at literature. She charges straight at groups of archers, allow enemies to surround her, and is paralyzed by indecision," she sneered.

"She is NOT that bad, not since I've been training her," Renee shouted back.

Virginia's eye didn't even narrow, "The real reason is that Colonel Miria regards Natalie like a pure white flower. Surely you've noticed Miria's reaction to Natalie killing others?"

"You've never traveled with Colonel Miria," Renee noted. "So how would you know Virginia?"

"I'm an excellent observer of character," Virginia answered, offering them both a cold smile.

* * *

"So, was that enough fun for one evening Cid?"

Miria's relationship with Cid was now back and improving, and had progressed rather rapidly. Cid had gone from forgiving her to sleeping with her in the course of one day. Miria was appreciating that fact now, lying quite nude atop his equally naked body, their lower bodies covered by thick covers, the room around them lit by dozens of sensuous candles. It was pitch black outside the windows, although in a few parts of the great city of Rabona there were torches visible on the distant walls.

Cid sleepily smiled as she kissed his neck, "I'd say three hours of sex is more than most men can imagine in a month. Remind me, why exactly did we get back together?"

She looked around the room at the clothes tossed to the side of the bed, both his and hers.

"Well, I hate losing, especially to other girls," Miria admitted. "That and we're great together."

"I'm just glad we did this in the house, not across the street in your office," he sighed in relief.

It had indeed been a good thing, as even locking her office's doors could not have protected their privacy and reputations from three hours of eavesdropping by curious female warriors. Being a half-awakened soldier, experiencing lust, particularly for attractive men, was not uncommon. For most of those seven years of exile and even before, she hadn't felt an urge to fulfill that desire.

Originally she had thought Galk had been the better fit for her personality with his strong, mature nature. But Galk had been married in the aftermath of the Organization's overthrow. Cid on the other hand was less of a brash, rambunctious, quick-tempered person people claimed he was. It seemed he had matured, so she asked him out just to see how an intimate relationship would suit her. Their original relationship had been built on passionate lovemaking and limited personal chemistry.

Or so Miria had thought until Cid had admitted to being utterly smitten and having bought an enormous engagement ring for her. Their formerly all passion relationship hadn't resumed, as Cid was livid with her unannounced twenty month departure. Not just livid, but for three months he hadn't even allowed her to touch him. A part of her was incredibly grateful that he'd forgiven her past transgressions. It felt so good just to have someone that she didn't really care if he was perfect for her.

Originally lovemaking was an awkward event for both of them, as Cid had nearly thrown up at seeing her horribly scarred and blackened belly. Helen however seemed to have a secret on passing by this obstacle. Helen's secret, which Helen proudly shared, was wearing a silk corset that covered the lower back and belly. Once Miria bought a sensuous red-with-yellow embroidered silk corset, Cid had proved much more willing. She was wearing it now, and he'd been very appreciative of that fact.

At that moment Miria was laying atop Cid, her breasts pressed flush against his chest as he drowsily caressed her back. They were lying together in an enormous canopy bed in an equally large master bedroom. The master bedroom was on the top floor of a six story house she'd bought directly across the street from Rabona's old tower, where all the other warriors still lived. Her salary had been more than enough to buy the property with only cash, and she'd brought Natalie to live with her.

That lasted until Sister Galatea arrived the next day to coldly inform her that Rabonese law did not allow the adoption of girls by single mothers. Nor could Natalie live with any woman unless she was properly adopted by a married couple. Galatea then dropped a not-so-subtle hint that she ought to get married to rectify the situation. Galatea had later started causing problems by attempting to convert a number of the warriors, all of whom who desperately needed more training. She'd sent Galatea packing, to the warriors' collective satisfaction and many smarting remarks.

It was hard to recognize Galatea as the same person she had been. Or perhaps Galatea had been like that all along, and they'd only missed it due to prior circumstances. There had been no time to discuss church issues with Galatea during the overthrow after all. The Yoma hunts had also given them no time for such things. But Galatea's words on marriage just didn't seem to be leaving her mind; 'do Natalie a favor and give her a father', Galatea had said.

"Cid?"

"What baby?"

Cid yawned, opening his mouth wide as she studied him.

Miria ignored his annoying tendency to call her 'baby', "If we got married some day, would it be alright to adopt Natalie?"

Cid's sleepiness disappeared instantly, "Wait, you want to get married? We've only been back together for two nights!"

"Well, maybe," Miria wavered, "It would help if I knew you wanted to be a father."

Cid gasped, "You're not trying to tell me you're pregnant, are you?"

"Of course not," Miria sighed. "Nadia thinks warriors like us cannot get pregnant anyways by human men, simply because our blood is mixed."

"How would Nadia know?"

Cid had asked while suggestively rubbing against her left leg under the covers.

"Nadia has been married for nearly two years Cid, and to a young man. They've been trying for a baby, and nothing's come of it. The same goes for that other married girl, Julia, I think her name was," she told Cid flatly.

He asked dumbly, "So then, this marriage thing, have I finally impressed you enough or what?"

Miria hedged her bets, not knowing whether to be grateful for Cid's simplicity or annoyed at his narcissistic world-view, "Well, it depends on how well you behave."

"I'll be good, I promise," Cid promised enthusiastically. "By the way, what was all that commotion about today when those two warriors arrived?"

"Captain Tabitha sent a message saying the coast is littered with destroyed ships and dead bodies. Apparently our 'friend' King Charles' troops are being kept mostly in Gonal to prevent those responsible from razing the city," she explained. "But I'm afraid he'll have to move on Rabona eventually, since he pays his men in war booty and rewards them with slave women.

"How long do you think we have, before the attack I mean?"

"Two months, tops," Miria answered, miserably sure, "and then we'll have an all-out war for the future of this island."

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**The siege of Rabona was a turning point in the history of the island of Toulouse. It marked the first active participation of claymores in the island's ongoing wars. On the receiving end of Phantom Miria's silver-eyed followers were the subordinates of the self-proclaimed King Charles of Lautrec. Known previously as Charles Angevin, Charles was a wealthy landowner in the northern part of the western lands of Lautrec. Following the War of Liberation, which annihilated the Organization's politically oppressive influence, Charles embarked on an ambitious campaign.**

**In the years since the city of Gonal was annihilated on Lautrec's northern coast, several thousand residents had returned to rebuild the city. The city offered the position of Count of Gonal to the first person able to pay for such an honor. Charles was the only man able to afford what was then considered an extravagant sum. Provided a politically powerless title and substantial but unused arable land around Gonal, Charles quickly used the situation to his advantage.**

**He hired large numbers of unemployed men, gave them rudimentary equipment and training, and then forced peasants to pay for the right of protection on his lands. Using this feudal system, Charles' army soon overthrew Gonal's fledgling government, and his militia began growing rapidly. His wealth skyrocketing, Charles was able to afford better armor, weapons, more training, and much larger numbers of men. His force grew from a paltry hundred ten weeks after the Organization's destruction to a respectable 3000 in one year. Declaring himself a Duke, Charles began a campaign of conquest across northern and western Lautrec, resulting in yet more glory, massively increased wealth, and a much larger pool of men to form armies from.**

**Charles realized that as long as Rabona remained free, it was a threat to his new realm. Employing his dashing, extremely handsome and deceptively flattering son Philippe as an ambassador to the brigands and militias roaming eastern Lautrec and western Toulouse, he sought to persuade them to his side. Philippe proved a master politician, and convinced nearly all of these forces to join his father's forces in exchange for 'comfort' girls, money from the slave trade Charles' forces practiced, better pay, better training, and far better equipment.**

**The one thing Charles feared more than anything else was the legendary liberators, Phantom Miria and her three dozen loyal claymores. As such, he gathered news of Miria's travels from spies, and came to realize the only reliable counters to silver-eyed warriors were mass formations and massed volleys of arrows. Having control of most of Lautrec and northwestern Toulouse, Charles boldly declared himself King of Toulouse, raising an unprecedented army of 10,000 well-trained if badly behaved men to besiege and conquer Rabona. With Rabona conquered, Charles felt sure, and probably correctly, that the claymores would not be able to stop him from ruling the entire island.**

**King Charles though was to see an early realization of his dreams stopped by none other than Phantom Miria and her warriors, who helped to lift the siege after Charles' son Philippe panicked and ordered a hasty assault. Chastened, King Charles and his heir regrouped and solidified their power base in Lautrec. The remaining independent warlords of southern Lautrec were defeated while Charles' losses were recovered, and two months later, seemed ready for a new assault. It would have been an assault Phantom Miria could never have hoped to be ready for or anticipated so soon.**

**It was not to be; a pirate fleet from islands far to the west attacked the coastline of Lautrec, forcing King Charles to defend his interim capitol of Gonal. Its 30,000 residents were saved by King Charles immediate counterattacks, but Charles realized while the attacks continued he would need to raise more men and fortify Lautrec in order to finally conquer Rabona. His armies grew substantially, but were tied down in garrison duty in newly built castles and forts throughout Lautrec. Finally, more than half a year after his original siege of Rabona failed, King Charles had enough forces in reserve to try once more.**

* * *

**2 months after Miria's conversation with Cid...**

The guards saluted as Philippe passed by in an ornate red and yellow-trimmed military tunic.

"Prince Philippe," the guards acknowledged him, each smiling a little as he walked by, through an immense, open arched doorway and into the royal hall of Gonal's interim royal mansion.

The room was festooned with hanging battle standards, all of which were crimson red, triangular, and adorned only with a single golden crown to symbolize the new monarchy. An immense fireplace was crackling opposite the open doorway, its massive hearth and brick chimney rising three stories to the room's roof. Golden chandeliers filled with burning wax candles lit the room, as did a number of large, arched windows looking out on the sea to the left. The cry of gulls could be heard faintly as Philippe sat down in a large, regal leather armchair.

The room was carpeted with a lion-themed carpet, replete with yellow lions, red background, and numerous white and black decorations. Lying atop this were numerous armchairs, a few small, low-lying wooden tables, and several enormous, plush black sofas. Perpendicular to the fireplace and opposite the windows was a single wooden door with a few half steps leading up to it.

Philippe was stealing a sidelong glance at the sea through the room's arched windows when a lovely blond girl wearing a red dress trimmed in yellow entered the room. She had gorgeous, wavy long blond hair, a nice face, big brown eyes, and had her modest cleavage revealed by her low-cut dress. The girl looked to be in her mid-20s, and was carrying a platter with bread and red wine, along with several ornate silver glasses.

The girl set down the platter in front of him and looked at him wistfully, "Is there anything more I can get for your Highness?"

"You're new, aren't you?"

The girl smiled at his attentions, "Yes your Highness." she answered.

Her eyes never left his face as she continued: "My name's Zelda."

"Have any talents useful for entertaining my guests Zelda?"

He had asked with reserved curiosity, but Zelda took it with complete seriousness.

"Oh, well, I play the ocarina pretty well, though my husband thinks if I practiced it, I'd be a legend, but I just don't have the time your Highness," Zelda explained, sighing.

Zelda's face was of a girl entranced, her feet shuffling minutely closer.

"Well, sit down, I know there's not much for you to do at the moment, but while I'm waiting for General Davout to arrive, we might as well talk and drink the wine," he told Zelda, who looked as if she couldn't agree more.

Zelda's tongue and manners soon loosened under the influence of half a dozen glasses of fine red wine, while he carefully drank only two. She began flirting scandalously for a married woman, "Your Highness is the best looking man I've ever seen," she complimented him.

Zelda leaned in for a kiss, which they shared for a moment as Zelda sat on his lap. Things continued with Zelda becoming ever more intoxicated and laughing ever more. He wrapped his arms around her bosom, which she smiled at.

"You are a nau-ghtee, gorg-eous boiy," Zelda teased him, her speech becoming ever more slurred. "But shuld-in't we do zis some-whaerr else," she asked, pointing to a man in plate armor walking into the room with two guards.

Zelda hastily put her dress back up, and he called in some additional guards, and quickly gave them orders, "take her back to my quarters, and see to it her husband is put on front-line duty."

"Yes your Highness," the guards acknowledged, and with barely a moment's pause they guided the disoriented Zelda away, out of the room. The armored man flashed him a devious smile, the man's red cape fluttering slightly as a guard opened an arched window.

"Seducing servant girls again, are we Prince Philippe?"

It was a direct question from the burly, powerfully-built giant of a man, his bulldog-like face making him less than handsome.

"As easily as ever," Philippe answered, "My father's probably inside the meeting room already General Davout," he addressed the giant man.

Davout went to the wooden door opposite the windows, opened it, and soon a lively banter was barely audible on the other side, a pair of guards keeping the door secured against intruders. The meeting was not going well, judging by the shouting Philippe could hear. He was sitting in the anteroom, his armored legs sprawled out on a nearby chair, waiting. He approached the door and heard some bitter words.

"Your Majesty, King Charles," Davout's voice yelled, "the situation demands we stay put."

His father's voice answered more calmly, "General Davout that is enough dramatics. These pirates raiding our flanks around Gonal are not worth our time. Philippe, get in here!"

Philippe rushed past the guards and into a better lit room where two men were seated around a round table. One of them was short, with a brown mustache, fine plate mail armor, purple cape, and a hawkish face. The other was General Davout, looking as intimidating as ever.

"Philippe, we are going to be embarking on a new strategy in our war against those silver-eyed monsters. We will be leaving in one week with 10,000 troops and crush those church pawns in Rabona," the shorter man explained coolly.

"Yes your Majesty," Philippe acknowledged, "then we'll be besieging them?"

General Davout stood up in rage, "After the despicable mess you made of besieging Rabona in your father's absence, Prince Philippe, I think not. This Colonel Miria may be a horrible monster, but she's a clever monster. They've doubled their troop numbers to 2000 in the last six months, and they're recruiting another 2000 troops."

"So what kind of attack do we mount on Rabona then?"

"General Davout and I," his father began, "have decided to starve them of all needed supplies for their war effort. Rabona is a city of roughly 100,000 inhabitants, so it cannot sustain so large a military from its small territory. They import large quantities of metal from the northern mountains. The farms near Rabona will only support a population of 80,000, so they import food from the northern and western plains of Toulouse. To counter her army, we will be cutting it and the city off from its food supplies, metal shipments, and inflow of new manpower."

Philippe questioned, "How?"

His father smirked while looking him over.

"We'll be surrounding the city, but 10 miles away in all directions. To hold the defensive line, we will be building eight castles."

"So we're luring her out to fight us at a place of our choosing then?"

Davout smirked beneath his beard, "I think it unlikely they will come out Prince Philippe. The Rabona Orthodox Church has declared in the past that offensive military maneuvers were an abomination. They control Rabona, and thus Colonel Miria's actions."

Philippe prodded, "And if she should decide to overthrow the church rather than die?"

"It would only throw Rabona into civil war. The Church is embedded in every part of the city, socially, culturally, militarily, politically. The Holy Guards' top officer might be Colonel Miria, but their supreme commander is Bishop Vincent. If she so much as tries to overthrow the theocracy, there will be civil war amongst her troops. So we win no matter what happens,"his father laughed after uttering this last remark, seemingly cocksure in their chances of victory.

"And if she should overthrow the church without a civil war?"

"Bah," General Davout sniffed, "Don't be so defeatist Philippe. If that happens, she'll be forced to lay siege to the castles to break our lines, and this will give us the time we need to bring all our forces to bear and utterly destroy her army."

"So how are we going to finance this?"

It was a question he had asked of his father, but it was General Davout flashing him an amused look who answered.

"The same way we always have, tolls, capturing men, women and children and selling them into slavery, and raiding the treasuries of any who oppose us," Davout laughed. "Would you like a few slave women Prince Philippe?"

"So long as they're satisfactory," he agreed.

"Ha! Listen to your boy talk Charles, already knows to take a good offer when he hears it. A toast then, to our victory and destruction of all the people of Rabona hold dear!"

* * *

"I'm telling you Miria," Renee growled to her, waving her arms dramatically in the commanding officer's office of Rabona's old great tower, "if you'd just let me handle the bitch, she'll never dare get close to your darling Natalie ever again."

"Thank you Renee," Miria soothed her subordinate, pursing her lips and sitting down in her chair behind the office's great desk, "but Galatea's more than you can handle. Just keep a lookout for Galatea, and I'm sure Natalie won't have to deal with it again."

Renee, standing before her desk and behind the room's immense strategy table, looked like she wanted to hit something, "Why aren't you more furious?"

Miria eyed Renee carefully, "What purpose would it serve Renee? If I beat the hell out of Galatea, it would be taken as a direct threat to the church, and then we'd have a real fight on our hands. She's a member of the Holy Council, and you can't have a go at her whenever you feel mad Renee. Besides, Galatea never used to be like this, so it stands to reason she can change back. In the future, try to restrain the temper more, and you'll find dealing with politics easier," Miria advised.

"I'll try Colonel Miria," Renee sighed. "But taking orders from humans can be really grating sometimes. It's not like any of them besides Commander Galk have a clue about running a military. Why can't you just declare yourself supreme commander and get the church out of our affairs?"

"Renee," Miria said, warning with a raised index finger, "We've all sworn oaths to the church. Until the day they give us a suicidal order, we follow their orders, understood?"

"Yes Colonel Miria," Renee answered with a sigh.

"You're dismissed Commander," she told Renee, who saluted smartly, opened the door, and left.

She grabbed a large, brown book marked "journal" and flicked it open to see her prior diary entries.

"Alright, let me see," she reflected, dipping her quill pen into an ink jar.

"What's the date? Oh right," she said, then marked the date down and began to write.

_"January 18th, 3 A.L.E."_

There came a moment of hesitation, and then finally the writer's block loosed itself and the words came:

_"It has now been two years and seven months since the Organization's fall, and a grand total of six months and three days since we warriors entered Rabona and raised the siege. Things seem to be going better than they have in some time. I appointed our "claymore scholar", Virginia, to the post of Army Inspector General. I'm so glad I did so, as I no longer have to deal with constant petty in-fighting amongst the 'girls' and men._

_Before Virginia took the post, there were at least three fights a week. Almost all of this has stopped since Virginia's appointment, and helps to make me feel better. It turns out that although my female comrades like fighting, they hate the idea of losing their positions and substantial pay even more. It's funny I gave the post to Virginia, because originally I regretted her not accepting a command post earlier, and thought she'd be a waste as my enforcer of rules. It's not all good news; I was asked a surprisingly deep question about the warriors by the ten-year-old daughter of Captain Lannes._

_"Is it hard to kill humans?"_

_I will admit it was a disturbing question for two reasons, the first being that it implied that warriors will never be viewed as humans by anyone, even the young. We're just too different-looking, too aggressive, too ageless, and too strange. This young girl was scared when Nina talked about hunting Awakened Beings and Yoma, the thrill of battle, and the camaraderie of sisters-in-arms. When the girl ran back to the comforting arms of her father, Nina looked insulted. When Nina was the girl's age, she was receiving lessons on how to kill Yoma and imitate prostitutes' behavior. This girl on the other hand was learning how to sew, cook, embroider and wear long dresses._

_I couldn't imagine myself being like this young girl, and growing up to have a boring life free of terrifying ordeals. The contrast makes you realize, no matter how much we may wish for humans to accept us as one of them that it will never happen. We will never "die human", because, by most rights, we aren't human. What human woman my age cares only for battle and lives for the thrill of fighting? If I were truly a human, I should be at home attending to children, my household, and my husband. Instead I find myself at the head of an army commanding a respect from male troops no human woman in this age could ever receive._

_It's ironic really; the acceptance we crave is the one thing we will never have, no matter what. But the other part of the girl's question was to me ironically the less disgusting and more depressing. It's true we warriors, who were raised to never lay a hand on humans or kill them, are now very guilty of killing numerous humans. If you had told me ten years ago that I would now be responsible for killing dozens of humans, I would have cursed you out. But the bandits' increased desperation forced my hand, and when they attempted to kill Natalie and the rest of us by slitting our throats that one night, I really wasn't in a negotiating mood._

_What can I tell this little girl? "Oh dear, it's always hard to kill humans"? I can't say I regret killing people who attack me with intent to kill, particularly not when they attempted to assassinate me and my four comrades. But the girl kept looking at me as if I should apologize for my sins. It took me all of my personal restraint to not get snappy with the girl. I get it, I really do. People would like to still think of us as humanity's altruistic protectors, even if circumstances force us to act differently than before. It's an out-dated notion for a different era though."_

The room's door opened audibly as Miria paused, a familiar yoki coming forward, the girl's footsteps scarcely audible on the hardwood maple floors. Miria ignored the new entrant to the office and continued writing.

"It's at times like right now, when I'm this stressed out, where I really need Cid around. I never realized this before, but sleeping with a man makes life so much less stressful. Virginia keeps giving me grief about my relationship with him, but I really don't have the time to find the supposed "mister perfect" Virginia believes is out there for me. It's so much easier just having Cid there, venting my frustrations to him, letting him satisfy my desires, and I've had worse for companionship.

Helen for pity's sake was damn near unbearable to be around for a month after Deneve died, and Cid's not tough to be around like that. I know he isn't perfect, but it feels nice knowing there's someone who is always there for you. Now if only he'd be less scared of the possibility of helping me raise Natalie as her father, then I'd be really happy."

"Watcha writing Miria?"

Natalie had asked while leaning over Miria's shoulder, staring at the diary on the desk.

"Natalie, how many times do I have to tell you not to look over my shoulder?" Miria had yelled straight over her right shoulder, turning on a scared looking Natalie, who was busily twirling some of her curly, long blond hair in an attempt to soothe some apparent anxiety.

Natalie backed up next to the window glimmering with the sun's rays, a flustered look upon her face.

"But you were so-"

"I already knew you were in the room Natalie, there's no need to read over my shoulder," Miria reprimanded rather loudly. "I want you to use a little more tact. Do you remember what happened with Mrs. Ruud van Willems last week?"

Natalie looked at her feet, "I didn't know she was married," Natalie quietly admitted this while fidgeting with both hands and looking down at the ground, looking rather ashamed and embarrassed by the subject.

"She had a ring on her finger Natalie. At the very least you should not have answered her question about the whereabouts of her husband. Did you think telling this woman about Helen and Ruud was a good idea?"

Natalie didn't say anything for awhile, her eyes moist and face downcast. Out of sympathy Miria embraced Natalie with both arms, hugging her tight.

"I know you didn't mean any harm Natalie, but you know I'm always here for advice," Miria finished with a reassuring kiss to Natalie's cheek, but Natalie looked awkward and unhappy despite this and then spoke up.

"Can I fight now that Renee thinks I'm better?"

Miria pulled back from her embrace of Natalie, "Now why would I let you do that?"

Natalie suggested, "Because you're a good mother and want to make your daughter happy?"

Miria smiled at Natalie's vaguely hopeful effort but firmly denied it being realized.

"No."

Natalie bawled, "You never let me do anything fun! All the other warriors get to fight, why not me?"

"Natalie-," Miria started.

Natalie clenched her fists, jumping up and down while stamping her right foot in frustration, pouting.

"All everyone does is treating me like some big idiot and says how I'm a worthless fighter. I'm tired of being the only warrior who sits around cooking and cleaning. I want to help fight!"

"You know I could never forgive myself if something happened to you Natalie."

Natalie sighed, "Is that why I can't fight?"

"It isn't such a bad thing Natalie," Miria reassured Natalie with a playful rub on the shoulders.

"If I trained with you for awhile, would you let me fight?"

Natalie had asked with an adorably innocent expression, which she couldn't quite resist.

"If it'll make you happy Natalie, I'll train you in a few months," Miria agreed.

"I asked about fighting, mother."

"You aren't going to give up are you? Well, alright, once you've trained for at least a year with me, I'll give you that chance," Miria answered.

"Aw thanks mom," Natalie gushed, jumping onto her and hugging tightly. Natalie however didn't stop hugging and kissing her cheeks even when another warrior entered the room.

"Get off Natalie," Miria warned. "We've got a guest."

Natalie stopped hugging her, turned around, then capriciously doubled back to plant another affectionate kiss upon her left cheek.

Before she could catch Natalie with a lazy effort, Natalie had jumped back and with a spring in her step left the room.

"What a silly girl."

It had come out as a sigh, but it seemed to have passed unnoticed by the diminutive Josephine, one of the older silver-eyed warriors who had volunteered to become a scout for the army. Josephine was standing silently, one arm raised in salute. Josephine, who wore her hair short much like Deneve had, only with longer bangs, stepped forward with a smile upon her short face.

"Reporting for duty as requested Colonel Miria."

Josephine was wearing a navy-blue leather scout's uniform, which had no exposed skin anywhere. Josephine was amongst the oldest of the last "new" generation of warriors the Organization produced before it fell, and had a reputation of being stealthy like a fox and an expert hunter to boot; qualities that made an excellent scout.

"The latest scouting reports just came in from; I think King Charles' forces are about to move out of Gonal, Josephine, but I need to be absolutely sure."

Josephine replied, "Of course Colonel, I'll be heading west into the lands of Lautrec then I assume?"


	6. Chapter 5: The Council's Coup

**Chapter 5: The Council's Coup**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**The city-state of Rabona under the leadership of the Rabona Orthodox Church remained remarkably independent, even in the Organization's era of influence in the lands of Toulouse. For years the theocratic rule of the city went unchallenged, even from within. Church-educated clerics ran the courts, appointed all military officers, wrote the law and ensured the unity of the state. This unity was finally broken by the rise of the Council of Lords in 1. A.L.E. With the Organization's threat gone, the wealthiest citizens of Rabona forced the church to not raise new taxes without their permission. When "Phantom" Miria led the surviving claymores to Rabona's aid, the leader of this new council was...**

* * *

Josephine was out scouting the western lands of Lautrec when she sensed it. A faint trace of yoki alerted her, so she looked around the dense forest. There was a nearby gurgling stream, its banks overshadowed by a line of willow trees. She could sense the source of the faint yoki not far away now. It was coming from somewhere along the bank of willow trees.

Josephine moved cautiously, drawing her two-edged claymore with a gloved hand. Like all scouts, she was wearing the navy-blue leather outfit of a freelance warrior and the annoyingly required open-faced steel helmet.

She found a peaceful scene before her, a little creek gurgling by as she crouched under the swaying willow branches. A man was encamped next to a stream wearing a gray traveler's cloak and black boots. He turned around at the sound of her foot snapping a twig. The man's eyes bulged, then turned golden yellow, the pupils narrowing to snake-like slits.

She ran towards him, holding the sword back to make the killing swing, but he jumped an inhuman distance up and away from the blade as she swung. The 'man' transformed even as he landed, his arms bulging out, as did all of his body. In place of a human being was a humanoid monster with brown skin, a bulging, muscular back, sharp teeth, and claws on its hands and feet. The transformation had annihilated the clothes, leaving even the Yoma's male sexual organ exposed.

"Ugh," Josephine sniffed, "thank god you won't be alive much longer. You look hideous."

The Yoma charged, jumping across the stream towards her. It extended a hand at her, its fingers extending into long, straight points expanding at her. Josephine smiled, ducking under the attack, and with a single swing chopped off both the Yoma's right hand and head. The corpse fell away, oozing purple blood onto the ground and into the stream.

Josephine severed one of the Yoma's fingers as proof of its existence, putting it into a small black bag on her belt. She put her claymore into its back holder, and then she started running back towards Rabona to report the news when she noticed her injury and stopped. One of the Yoma's fingers hadn't missed her body after all, and had dangerously pierced into her belly.

"Crap," Josephine cursed. "Just what I needed: a possibly mortal injury. I guess there's no point in waiting to find out if it's fatal."

Josephine pulled out the finger gingerly, then as calmly as possible sealed the wound. She began healing it with yoki, although it was rather draining. It was just as Josephine was finishing the ordeal of healing that a man's voice interjected.

"Oh dear, are you alright?"

Josephine looked up to see a very tall man wearing a hood, brown shirt and green tights approach. His face was impossible to see under the hood, but he walked like a young man and there was something about his voice that made Josephine pause.

"Do I know you?"

"What a strange thing to say," the man commented. "You look like you need my help. I'll bring by my flat cart and get you back to my house. My wife is handy at helping with these sorts of things."

Josephine was about to object when her head began to feel light and everything went dark.

* * *

There were voices in the dark as Josephine listened through a haze. If she concentrated enough it might be possible to hear them. A male voice cut through the haze in bits and pieces.

"...awfully weak, that girl is. I wonder if she's ever healed a wound like that before..."

A woman's voice joined in, though a little less sympathetic, "She should've eaten more, just look at her, half-starving herself to be lighter and faster..."

The conversation dissolved into yet another haze, and Josephine eventually fell back into a pleasant sleep. She half awoke to the pair of voices, with the female's leading off.

"Go back? Why would we go back? You want me to go back on all fours to beg forgiveness for being an apostate too?"

"We don't just have to worry about ourselves dear," the man interjected. "King Charles' troops just entered into this lake valley. If we hurry, we can get to the Kerouac Gorge in a week."

"I don't know," the woman wavered.

Josephine would've given anything to hear just a bit more, but her mind was not yet whole, and her consciousness slipped back into the comforting dark.

There it remained for awhile further, but suddenly the dark began to recede, and the voices came back.

"It's always the same. No matter how altruistic her aims are, we both know she likes power and has ambitions to use it," the woman said.

"Yes, but from what we've heard they've been for good. Come on, you're beginning to sound jealous of her success sweetheart," the man said, making his rebuttal.

As Josephine listened, the voices slowly emerged from a haze and became ever clearer.

"I am not," the woman said defensively, "and anyways, we both know she likes being in control without any interference. How long do you propose the situation in-"

"Hold it," the man said.

Josephine felt a nudge on her right shoulder, and abruptly she opened her eyes to find a hooded man and woman wearing long green robes in a small wooden cottage. The woman was far smaller than the man, and busily tending to a steaming pot of soup.

"You were asleep these last two days," the man said, "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever wake up."

"We patched up your uniform," the woman said, just as mysterious and unknowable, "you should eat and rest awhile before taking off."

"Thanks," Josephine replied, looking between the mysterious couple, "My name's Josephine, what are yours?"

"Ah well," the hooded man stammered, then paused as if thinking, "I'm Rafael de Lautrec. This is my wife...Clarissa de Lautrec."

The hooded woman seemed to be giving her husband a hard look but said nothing. Josephine ate all the assorted fruits, meats and bread on the platter beside the large bed she was in. She was just finishing when the man spoke up.

"You had best get going; this lake valley is secluded but King Charles' troops are starting to enter it, and he's put a price on the heads of all claymores," the man warned.

"Did you see any of them heading east, past the borderlands?"

"Well, there was a large column of them to the north I saw, but they were heading through the Sistine Pass, way north of the Kerouac Gorge," the very tall man divulged.

"Thanks for everything, and goodbye," Josephine said, grabbing her sword and running out the door before either man or wife could say anything more.

Josephine exited the house at full speed, running some distance along the picturesque lakeside before heading up the valley's eastern hills. She kept going, aiming straight for the Kerouac Gorge. Thankfully she still had some caution, and managed to see that the spectacular mountain pass was being guarded by enemy soldiers and plenty of archers.

Knowing she needed to get back to Miria and warn her of the attack in time, Josephine decided to risk an over-mountain trip. It took just over a day to scale the peaks and descend again, finally in sight of the ever-growing Rabona and its innumerable croplands around it. As Josephine clambered down the last outcropping of rock, it was just possible to see the morning's light strike the Teresian Cathedral's three spires.

Josephine descended into the Borderland Forest, where the first five miles of forest flew by as she dodged trees and avoided sharp rocks. She was almost to the central flood plains of Rabona when she smelled large numbers of sweaty men. Josephine had to slow down, and noticed, rounding a tree to peek, a work crew of men chopping down trees everywhere in sight. The men numbered in the hundreds, and they were all unarmed. It looked like she could risk it until she saw a squad of ten archers in red-plumed caps not far away. She edged away from the men and back into the forest.

Josephine tried to get around the men, and struck north at a cautious speed, sneaking through the treetops to the north. A patrol of ten cavalrymen rushed by below her; when they passed, she jumped to the next tree. The further along Josephine went, the more evident that there was no break in the camps of soldiers. She could hear fires crackling in the distance, the loud talking of soldiers all around, the felling of trees still further away.

Josephine snuck through the area at a snail's pace, so much so it was dusk before she could see the central flood plains stretching out before her.

"At last," she sighed.

Josephine paused to consider the mysterious couple who'd helped her, Rafael and Clarissa de Lautrec. There was something maddeningly familiar about the two of them in Josephine's mind. It was when she thought about the woman's reaction to being called "Clarissa" that Josephine realized who she'd run into.

"I can't believe I nearly fell for that," Josephine muttered. "Miria isn't going to believe this."

Josephine jumped into the last tree's branches, nearly falling when the branch cracked beneath her feet. She swung over just in time onto a sturdier branch, and sighed in relief, hanging six stories above the ground. She swung up and clambered through the tree as quietly as she could. She could hear a few birds chirping to her left and right. Then she realized that there were no birds chirping the entire previous time. She looked around and ducked as a small object sailed past her. It hit the branch above her. She turned to look and found a white-feathered arrow embedded into the branch.

Shit," Josephine muttered. She spotted the archer down below. He was drawing out yet another arrow out of a hefty quiver on his back.

Josephine ran down the tree, scratching herself several times. She didn't care though, as several other arrows narrowly missed her head as she rushed. When she was three stories above open, flat ground, she jumped down, landing like a cat. Several archers came into view around her, and fired shots as Josephine began an all-out sprint for the field.

Josephine got hit in the left leg, but she kept going despite the intense pain. The archers' shots were straying further from her as she picked up speed. The field was beneath Josephine's feet, and distantly she could just make out the spire of Rabona's main cathedral. Hope pushed her on now, despite the arrow wound bleeding being worsened by her running. She could feel the warm blood trickle down her leg, and chanced a glance behind. No matter what, Josephine decided, she had to make it to Rabona to carry both the news of the attack and of her extraordinary discovery.

Nearly a half mile back was a dozen archers running after her from the woods. She was safe. Josephine kept going, but at a more leisurely pace. She ran towards a gentle hilltop another mile away to get a better view of her surroundings. She felt the sweat drip from her face as she jogged with an awkward limp up its side. At last she made it up to the hilltop when she heard the words, "fire at her!"

* * *

"Ahh, this is the life, isn't it Renee?"

Renee looked over from her massage table to the curly-haired Nadia beside her, who was lying belly down on a long wood table wearing nothing other than a towel. Nadia was getting a massage from another claymore, thin, coif-haired Camilla, who was standing up, completely nude.

A pressing of hands into Renee's own back snapped her attention away from Camilla to enjoying her own massage.

"A little to the left Helen," Renee instructed her masseuse.

"Yes your imperiousness," Helen mocked.

They were in Rabona's old tower, which, as they had discovered, had all sorts of uses when given some renovations. The tower was some six stories tall, and came complete with a one-story tall outer wall and a modest square beneath it. The tower was situated at the western end of Rabona's innermost urban fortress, alongside the eastern banks of Rabona's main canal. The tower even had a basement to store meats, beer, wine, and other types of food.

The first floor of Rabona's old keep was used primarily as a storehouse for weapons, armor, training weapons, and even functioned as a small barracks. The second floor featured kitchens and a sizable dining hall. Above the kitchens and dining hall were the living quarters, which had to be extensively renovated. The entire third and fourth floors and part of the fifth had been given over to housing the girls, often two or three to a room.

Natalie had briefly roomed with Miria until Galatea's intervention, and now roomed with Nadia's current masseuse, Camilla. The three married girls, Julia, Alessandra, and Nadia, had moved across the street alongside Miria in nearby block houses with their husbands. The fifth floor, unlike the fourth floor, was mostly given over to classrooms. At the far eastern end was Miria's office, which had a balcony looking out onto the square below and a great view of the city. The sixth floor had only recently been converted, with a number of rooms being made into luxurious bedrooms. About a quarter of the space however was given over to where she was now with Helen, Nadia, and Camilla: the baths.

The baths were not an original feature of Rabona's old keep. Captain Virginia was responsible for the design and construction of the baths, and urged into it by Camilla, Virginia's cousin. The girls had become agitated they could not find clean water to bathe in or drink when they arrived in Rabona. In fact, much of the canal water below was laced with feces and urine from chamber pots upstream. To solve their problem, Virginia came up with the idea of filtering the water and boiling it.

It started with a paddlewheel powered by the canal's current, which in turn moved a small scoop-line that hoisted water eight stories above and dumped it into a large tank on the keep's roof. The tank featured numerous filters built in, ingenuously using gravity and filters to clean the water effortlessly. From there the tank's water went down to the sixth floor, where a set of furnaces then heated the piped water. The resulting hot water was piped into the bath room, where it filled a long rectangular steel tub. The tub then drained through tiny pipes emptying into the canal below.

The steam rising from the tub now was coating the room in a haze, which was not hard to be reminded of as it precipitated onto Helen's nude breasts before Renee's eyes.

"Come on Helen," Renee sighed. "You know it was Miria's decision to make me a Commander, not mine."

"Ah don't worry yourself Renee," Nadia joined in, looking over, "Helen's not really annoyed at you. She's just annoyed that Ruud van Willems won't leave his wife for her."

"That is a total lie!"

All three of them turned to look at Helen with an air of amused disbelief.  
"Sure I banged the guy a few times," Helen admitted, "but that was a one-time thing!"

Nadia kept up the interrogative approach; "Oh really, and I'm sure you don't find the newly-minted Lord van Willems devilishly handsome, do you?"

"Of course he's devilishly handsome," Helen said, sounding aggrieved, "I wouldn't have slept with him if he weren't handsome."

"So then Helen," Nadia went on, smiling, "what would you call a girl winking at Lord van Willems, blowing him a kiss, and then making certain his wife saw it?"

Helen hesitated, and abruptly Renee realized watching the interaction between the two that Nadia had just asked a loaded question.

"I'd call her his mistress," Helen said opaquely.

"I'd call her a professional home-wrecker," Nadia said with a dangerous edge, "the kind I keep my Raul away from. I've got a note from one such home-wrecker right here."

Helen leaped upon Nadia almost immediately, trying to dislodge the note from Nadia's right arm. Renee watched a moment as they struggled before Camilla jumped in. Helen had pinned Nadia to the massage table, the back of Nadia's head squished between Helen's breasts and the restraining hold of Helen's left arm. Camilla grabbed Helen's right arm, holding it back just enough to keep Helen from grabbing the note.

Having seen enough of the risqué but annoying struggle of three nude girls sandwiched atop one another, Renee solved the situation by grabbing the note from Nadia's hand. Helen got off Nadia immediately and rounded upon her.

"Give me the note, Renee," Helen demanded, sounding seriously peeved.

"Fine, but the next time this happens you two," Renee wagged a finger at both Nadia and Helen, both dripping nude and breathless, "I'll report it to Virginia."

"Ah," was all Nadia managed.

Helen reacted by silently walking to the room's exit, then slamming the door upon leaving.

"Nadia," Renee testily remonstrated, "what the hell were you doing?"

"Just giving Helen her just desserts for sleeping around," Nadia admitted forthrightly. "You're not honestly going to tell me you're siding with Helen, are you Renee?"

"Of course I'm not. I'm well aware that Helen has a very bad habit of seducing and bedding married men, Nadia. I'm aware that she got Alessandra's husband Emanuel drunk and slept with him when we were back in Pieta. I know that Helen made a pass at your husband, and I'm aware that Helen's trying to get back together with Ruud. I just don't think starting a fight with Helen will work when everyone knows Helen would win."

Camilla asked, "Could you blame Helen if she passed on Julia's man?"

"No, I can't imagine I'd blame anyone for doing that," Nadia laughed along with both Camilla and Renee.

"Well, so much for massages, how about we clean up before dinner?"

"No disagreements here Renee," Nadia smiled.

The room was segmented between the 20-foot long rectangular bath on one half of the room, and the sauna benches and solid wood massage tables on the other. The sun was creeping onto the room's tiled floor from the west, bathing the room in sunlight from two arched windows high overhead. The walls were also tiled and numerous metal drains could be found throughout the very warm room as they walked over to the steaming bath.

Nadia slipped in quickly, the water coming up just beneath Nadia's well-rounded but not perky breasts. Renee slipped in on the other side while Camilla gingerly slid into the rounded far end.

Nadia queried, "I don't suppose you know where the Ile de poires is, do you Renee?"

"Oh, you mean that island in the middle of the Toulouse River around a mile south of Rabona? What of it?"

"I had this dream of us owning that island someday," Nadia sighed as Camilla began throwing soap into the bath.

"Well, keep dreaming Nadia. Both of us make 800 Francs a year each as Commanders and that island is listed at over a 100,000 Francs."

The bath was filling rapidly with soap suds, covering them up to their necks.

Camilla joined in; "You remember when Cid claimed he accidentally walked in on twenty of us bathing?"

"Thankfully he found Miria with us to 'rescue him from almost certain temptation," Nadia laughed, crying tears of laughter and smiling. "I can't remember seeing Miria so badly embarrassed and annoyed at the same time before."

Renee abruptly sensed something wrong as a yoki approached Rabona from the west.

"Miata," Renee breathed.

Renee closed her eyes, oblivious to Nadia and Camilla, and soon the world revealed itself anew. There were over thirty blazing lights of yoki around them; most downstairs, although Miria shielded hers so well it was difficult to tell where Miria was. The yokis looked a lot like constant sources of light in a sea of darkness, each waxing and waning as emotions poured over them.

Miata's yoki was easy to sense; its strength so overwhelming it was difficult to sense anything around it. It was not hard to read; Miata radiated fear, uncertainty, a sense of loss, and desperation.

"Renee?"

Renee opened her eyes to find Nadia's head before her.

"It's Miata, she's in distress. Come on, we've got to shower all this suds off and find out what's going on."

They lined up underneath the showers, and then Camilla flicked a switch that would allow the steaming water out to wash away the suds on their nude bodies. They washed off within seconds, smelling far better than before, and rushed over to the changing room to find their navy-blue leather outfits dry and ready to wear. Camilla grabbed half a dozen white towels and threw four of them towards her and Nadia.

It took a half minute to dry off, although she didn't have time to correctly dry her wet braided hair. Renee put on her own outfit, fitting the top over her breasts, and then zippered it skin-tight. She was putting on the skirt when Natalie walked into the changing room to find them mostly dressed.

"Uh, Renee, can I ask you something?"

"Not now, there's been a serious incident," Renee said, exasperated. "We're going downstairs to meet Miata and find out what happened."

There came a general chorus of shrieking and angry yelling from below them. Renee bolted past Natalie, running down the narrow, curving stone staircase as fast as she could with Camilla and Nadia trailing. Renee reached the floor where the yokis were beginning to spike in stress and opened the door to the second floor of the tower, and found Miria pacing, looking furious.

"What's happened?"

Miria looked at them, and they noticed all around them in the hallway were a dozen warriors, all looking sullen, crying or pissed off.

"Josephine was killed by two arrows through the forehead out scouting today," Miria answered, her spiky bangs fluttering as she paced. "Captain Tabitha and the Elite Guard found her dead early tonight roughly 9 miles west of here. It seems King Charles' forces are on the move to encircle us and starve us of food and war supplies."

Camilla gasped, "What?"

Camilla then sunk to her feet, sobbing against Renee's leg. Camilla was soon dragged off to sob uncontrollably out of both sight and sound.

There had not been much talking after Colonel Miria's order to get into their armor. Armor was a new thing for silver-eyed warriors. However, as Cynthia had so unfortunately learned, an arrow was equally lethal to claymores whether through the heart or the head. Thus Miria had ordered that every warrior was to be armored once she took over Rabona's military.

Renee grabbed her own mail shirt and shoved her arms and head into it. It was a snug fit. With the help of two soldiers, she fastened on her breastplate, a backplate with a cape attached to it, leg-protecting tassets, gauntlets, elbow protectors, and steel combat boots. She fitted a belt around her waist, and then a pair of male soldiers attached the gold-gilded pauldrons onto her shoulders. Renee admired the armor a moment before grabbing her white-plumed steel helmet.

The two dozen other warriors readying themselves in the first floor armory room were mostly silent. When they finished Miria appeared before them, doing a quick inspection and then stood to address them. Miria was armored much the same as Renee, except her armor she had unnecessary leg armor and gold-gilded gauntlets to emphasize her status as commander.

"Let's go officers," Miria snapped, walking hurriedly out of the armory.

They all ran after her into the low brick-walled courtyard of the great tower but Miria suddenly stopped cold. There, standing at the gates to Rabona's citadel, chatting with the guards, was a nun with milky white eyes and long blond hair in a blue nun's uniform. They ran up to the gate when they noticed the nun was carrying a claymore upon her back.

"I'm truly sorry, but I can't let you run off just yet," the nun declared.

"Sister Galatea," Colonel Miria snapped, "what is the meaning of this?"

"The Holy Council wishes for you and your warriors to appear before it at the Teresian Cathedral immediately," Galatea stated, sounding regretful.

"We don't have time for this nonsense Galatea," Miria snapped, looking imperious in her helmet and armor. "King Charles' forces are encircling Rabona, and according to my scouts all 10,000 of them are fortifying a defensive line around the city. In very short order they will be in the position to starve us into submission without having to kill anyone."

"You swore an oath to serve the Holy Council, Colonel, do you not remember?"

There was a dangerous hint in the tone of Galatea's voice.

Renee could see Miria's eyes narrow, "What is it the Holy Council wants?"

Sister Galatea motioned to the well-armored company of golden-caped soldiers behind her, all of whom looked tense. "We are here to escort you Colonel, and one other of your warriors to stand before the Holy Council. They will explain the situation to you there," Galatea explained. "I'm instructed to use force if you refuse."

Miria shook her fist at Galatea, "Have you gone out of your mind? We'll all die if we do nothing Galatea. Do you really care—"

Galatea cut off the conversation by placing her hand on the claymore's black grip.

"So is it resistance then?"

Renee, like the others, looked to Miria, who was warily eying Galatea's company of soldiers.

Miria turned around, "Renee, you'll come with me, the rest of you stay here under Commander Nadia's orders. Don't move until I come back," Miria declared.

* * *

The meeting with the Holy Council went about as well as Renee expected, with Colonel Miria a simmering mass of righteous anger restrained by the occasion. The meeting had started on a bad note, as Bishop Vincent, Sister Galatea, and the four other male priests had asked them to dangerously give up their weapons. Miria had flatly refused, which was reasonable considering they were surrounded by the well-trained Bishop's Guard and Galatea, who had her claymore fastened to her back. Eventually the soldiers simply gave up; they were convinced Galatea's presence would deter anything.

Bishop Vincent rose to conclude the meeting.

"I'm afraid a military attack upon the poor souls of King Charles' army would be an affront to the teachings of God. Killing their poor souls not in defense but in an attack would be a sin without parallel in God's eyes. I am afraid I must forbid it," Bishop Vincent declared, looking sad but firm.

Renee and Miria were on one knee in deference to his authority; it was the price they had paid to become officers under the church.

"Bishop Vincent," Renee pleaded, "surely you must see that if we do nothing the people will likely all starve and fall into that barbarian army's hands."

Miria looked over at her, her helmet off and her hair frazzled.

"Commander Renee, you must understand, there is no choice in this for you or for us. It is God's will. Now please, leave us be. The Holy Council has much to discuss about the situation. Oh, and congratulate your new Lieutenant Colonel Francois Galacon when you return. We've just appointed him as Colonel Miria's second-in-command."

They walked down the streets afterwards escorted by no one but their own despair. Miria was holding off tears, her eyes obviously moist. Neither of them spoke a word until they got back to the gate to their old tower's courtyard. A tall man and some nine of his unusually cloaked and masked compatriots were waiting. The tall man stepped forward to address them.

"Colonel Miria, we have a proposition to make to you," he offered. His face was obscured by a black mask and the low, flickering light of the torches attached to the gate.

"Ruud van Willems, is that you?"

Miria asked, evidently a little too loudly, as some of the men shushed Miria.

"My lady, I must ask you to be quieter. I apologize for my earlier behavior," Willems said, making a small bow to Miria and Renee.

Miria asked quietly, "What's this little group you've gathered here?"

"We are members of the Rabona Council of Lords. We approve all taxes the Rabona Orthodox Church levies on the citizens," Ruud van Willems answered.

Miria went on, "So what brings you to us?"

"My peers and I are willing to help you neutralize the opposition to your mobilization of the army. All we ask is for you to keep the Holy Guards outside of Rabona's walls," Willems explained.

They looked around, and seeing no one, they continued talking low.

Miria perceptively asked, "So then, will this involve any killing, or be a bloodless affair?"

"Bloodless," another masked Lord spoke up. "Well, at least as far as is possible. If the Bishop's Guard attacks, then there may be some fighting. But it won't be enough to stop us. We will be mobilizing armed mobs of supporters demanding a vigorous defense of the city."

Renee inquired, "And if they should refuse?"

Miria glanced at her, as did the other masked Lords.

"That's why you must keep the Holy Guards where they are. If you give us 24 hours to secure a deal with the Holy Council, we guarantee you they will see sense," Willems explained.

"What kind of 'sense' will this be?"

"The necessary kind Commander Renee," Willems stated, sounding sure. "The Council of Lords will leave the law-making, tax-collection and administration of the city to the church. But they will be forced to give up their command of the Holy Guards. We will allow the Holy Council to retain its 2 Bishop's Guard companies, but the Holy Guards will be under our command."

"You do realize you're talking about a coup d'état," Miria half-asked, half-stated.

"Perfectly," Willems answered, his voice energized.

Miria looked up at the tower and then back at the masked company of Lords.

Miria demanded, "What will happen to the Holy Guards and my warriors?"

"We will rename the Holy Guards the 'Army of Rabona', and we will name you its Major General," Willems explained. "Your officers and men will otherwise be untampered with, and you will not be called on to crush any rebellion in the city."

"You make a persuasive case Lord Willems," Miria smiled. "How soon can you move?"

"Tomorrow," the Lords all answered in unison.

* * *

"We've got 1000 men gathered Lord Mayor Zaehringen," Ruud van Willems told the cloak-wearing leader of the Council of Lords, both of them looking over at the triple-spired and heavily guarded Teresian Cathedral opposite the Lord Mayor's residence in Rabona's central square.

Zaehringen smiled, "Good, that ought to do against 200 Bishop's Guards, don't you think so Lord van Willems?"

Willems was not sure how to answer as he turned to the small, black cloak-clad Zaehringen.

"We promised Colonel Miria that there would be no violence," he objected to Zaehringen.

Zaehringen completed his turn, revealing a charming face, gray eyes, and a finely trimmed beard, which covered Zaehringen's cheeks and lower chin.

"We promised Phantom Miria and then added caveats," Zaehringen stated, smiling.

"But we promised-"

"I am well aware what we promised Ruud," Zaehringen huffed, annoyed. "The fact is if we do not use force against the church, they will never negotiate. A fine thing that would be; the church may have little respect for property, but a warlord king would have no respect for property."

"The Colonel isn't going to be happy with us-"

"I damned well get the point Ruud," Zaehringen yelled, inadvertently drawing the attention of several of the Bishop's Guard across the square.

"Lord Mayor, it'd be best to avoid attracting too much attention," Ruud reminded his superior.

They sat down in some chairs underneath the precipice of the Lord Mayor's residence, which was a masterpiece of Gothic architecture. It stood six stories high, with a ten story spire adorned with hundreds of miniature gargoyles. The roof was a beautiful red-green mix of colored patterns, and the building a beautiful russet red, its arched windows and fanciful gargoyle waterspouts giving it a gorgeous appearance.

The sun's light was fading as dusk approached, the city's square slowly getting dark. The square itself contained the large quad-winged Teresian Cathedral, with the cathedral's grand entrance wing facing them. Two large church spires ascending 20 stories into the sky complemented this wing, while the cathedral itself was ten stories high at the roof, and was architecturally similar to the Lord Mayor's residence in its Gothic style. It dominated the square, its twin iron doors and grand entrance looking out on the Lord Mayor's residence opposite it and six-story homes belonging to the town's elite.

"When dusk falls, you know what happens normally in this city Ruud?"

Zaehringen asked as residents scurried quickly into homes and out of the streets.

Zaehringen never gave Willems enough time to answer, "Fear sinks in, because the Bishops of Rabona for over five hundred years have put more value in protecting the houses of worship with their own flocks. Merchants are robbed in the night, houses broken into with impunity, women out late are raped, and all of this behind the 'safety' of the city's vaunted walls. Bishop Vincent may be a compassionate man, but he labors in the safety of the cathedral and churches."

"His sin is not unique Lord Mayor, perhaps if we were to attempt to negotiate with him-"

Zaehringen, his faced riddled with wrinkles and his beard's brown hair mixed with gray, nevertheless managed to look intimidating as he glared at him, "Ruud, when the Council of Lords forced the church to give up absolute power a year ago, do you remember what we did?"

"We used force," Willems admitted, "by sponsoring mobs that besieged the other churches in Rabona, and because the Bishop's Guard couldn't protect them all, they compromised."

"Exactly," Zaehringen smiled.

"It won't work a second time you know Lord Mayor. Bishop Vincent came to power after that incident and made the decision to focus everything on protecting the Teresian Cathedral. There's not a mob in Rabona capable of single-handedly taking down 200 well-armed Bishop's Guardsmen though. So how is it we are going to overthrow the church, now that the army's outside the city walls?"

In the square's center were five large obelisks, each rimmed on their bases by four large torches each. They lit the cobblestone square enough to reveal the presence of some fifty Bishop's Guards on patrol immediately before the grand entrance, and more patrolling around the church further away.

"As the night falls, the curtain will rise on the final act," Zaehringen stated. "When the fireflies emerge, the time to act will be certain," Zaehringen said almost poetically.

"Lord Mayor?"

A building roar of human voices and trampling feet could be heard in the far distance, and several of the Bishop's Guards looked askance and uncertain. In the square, far from the obelisks' torches, a small flash of yellow light blinked. Another followed far above, near the residence's spire, and soon dozens, then hundreds of beautiful yellow flashes lit up around the square.

"Beautiful creatures aren't they, Ruud?" Zaehringen asked. "Fireflies are said to be the harbingers of change, as day turns to the night, they bring with it a new era."

Abruptly a whistling sang through the air, and half a dozen Bishop's Guardsmen fell to the cobblestones, their armor pierced by arrows. Shouts rang out as the guardsmen regrouped, falling back towards the cathedral's sheltering walls as hundreds of arrows shot in from all direction from newly emerged archers on the roofs of neighboring buildings. Several dozen guardsmen formed a shield wall near the grand entrance as other guardsmen came out wielding bows.

"Now there's a surprise," Zaehringen murmured as they watched. "The church has changed so much they're even willing to use heretical weapons like projectiles."

The night was filled with the screams of the wounded and dying, the shouts of those engaged in life-and-death ranged combat, and angry words, all of it intermixed with the beautiful light of thousands of fireflies. Willems could do nothing but sit and listen to Lord Mayor Zaehringen as another hundred guardsmen emerged from the cathedral, their numbers beginning to turn the tide.

Willems asked Zaehringen, "Surely that's not all we have?"

"You hear that low rumble of feet and voices in the distance Ruud, that's the mob of 1000 concerned citizens the Council of Lords convinced to support us," Zaehringen explained, smiling. "In the interests of not starving to death under the bizarrely militant pacifism of the church, they agreed to support the Council's overthrow of church rule in return for weapons and money."

The roar and stamping of feet grew louder, seemingly coming from all sides as he listened. Then abruptly separate mobs of torch and spear-wielding civilians, most of whom he saw being middle-aged, ran into square from all four streets feeding into it, and others charged towards the cathedral in the distance from other side streets. Some of the citizens were even women, and while none of them possessed anything beyond rudimentary armor, their swords, spears and axes seemed well beyond civilian means.

"My god," Willems whispered in horrified awe as the first wave hit the guardsmen, both sides engaged in a brutal close-quarters combat. While the first wave was being devastated by the superior armor, arms and training of the guardsmen, another wave hit them of screaming, furious peasants shouting, "Down with the church!"

The guardsmen were putting up a hell of a fight, a point emphatically emphasized when an archer on Zaehringen's residence fell off the roof, smashing the table they were seated around, an arrow sticking out of the man's blond-haired head.

"Damn," Willems cursed as he leapt away in alarm. Zaehringen in contrast scarcely flinched.

"Keep your nerve Lord van Willems, and you'll soon see, one way or another, our numbers will prevail," Zaehringen said, as two of his servants ran forward, hoisted the dead man's body away, and ran back into the residence. A second later another table was brought forward, and Zaehringen motioned for him to take a seat, which he reluctantly did.

"Why aren't we fighting as well?"

"Call it proper caution Ruud," Zaehringen explained, "their last card has just come into play."

"I don't follow-"

Abruptly a nun dressed in blue and armed with an immense sword ran out from the church. After taking awhile to ascertain the situation, the nun cleaved a peasant in two who was about to run through a guardsmen with a spear.

"What the hell?" Willems shouted, "Isn't she supposed to be totally blind?"

Even as many of the guardsmen were being overwhelmed, the peasants shied away from engaging the former claymore Galatea, around whose presence the guardsmen regrouped. Even as they watched peasants were turning to run as Galatea turned towards where the guardsmen needed help. With an escort of thirty guardsmen, Galatea charged to the right of the cathedral's grand entrance into a massive mob of peasants attacking a modest contingent of guardsmen.

Zaehringen whistled, and suddenly the peasants disengaged, falling back even as the guardsmen stayed where they were. Dozens of peasants and guardsmen lay dead, the former far more than the latter, but there were plenty of wounded guardsmen left behind as well, many groaning in pain.

"What are we going to do now?"

Zaehringen pursed his lips as the peasants reformed into a line before them and the rooftop archers continued their bombardment.

"It's obvious to me we won't take the church with Galatea anywhere nearby," Zaehringen bitterly said, "I had hoped her vision was completely gone, but evidently close up it's enough to distinguish friend from foe. We'll have everyone wait here, and we'll besiege the cathedral."

"And if Galatea manages to smuggle out a message past our men to the army?"

"That's where Phantom Miria's Elite Guard comes in," Zaehringen noted wryly, grinning in spite of the setbacks.

* * *

"You have done well sister Galatea," Father Mazarin addressed her, his face fuzzy and colorless in her sight despite him being three feet away.

"I scarcely merit the praise," Galatea sighed.

She was looking at the fuzzy details of what was the belfry of the Teresian Cathedral's southwestern tower. It overlooked the grand entrance, which was situated to the left.

"How far can you see out there?"

"At most twenty feet, beyond that everything's a giant blur, and I can't discern colors or see the details of faces beyond five feet. It was somewhat hard to distinguish our guards from the rebels, and I can't see the archers at all," she sighed. "The best I could do is to run through their lines and back."

"Exactly," Mazarin agreed. "Sister Latea, we are preparing to have you carry Father Mohr as a messenger. Once he gets to a safe place, drop him off and he'll bring a message to the army, and this will all be over."

Galatea agreed, "Alright, but is Father Mohr prepared for jumping over the rooftops with me?"

Mazarin said, sounding impatient, "Father Mohr, are you ready?"

"With god's grace I am," Father Mohr's voice interjected.

Galatea could just make out Father Mohr's beard as he came very close. She dropped to one knee as Mohr wrapped his arms around her neck and his legs around her hips.

"Guardsmen," Father Mazarin shouted to some other men whose blurred silhouettes looked armored, "prepare to open fire on those rooftop heretics. We need to give the sister as safe a passage as possible over the rooftops. Sister, grab this rope, you're going to swing down to the roofs below. Sergeant, please tie Father Mohr tight to the sister so that he may safely accompany her," Mazarin instructed in a loud, bellicose voice.

The guards began firing below onto the roofs, judging by the twangs of released bow strings and screams she heard below. Galatea stood up as Mohr was secured to her, and already she could feel his sweat dropping onto her legs.

Galatea grabbed the rope Mazarin gave her, positioned herself in what seemed the open side of the belfry, and then, as Father Mohr clutched her neck hard, she swung herself down. Fear surged through her body as she swung into the blurry details of a town at night, but on this occasion, Galatea had some luck. Flecks of light were being emitted all over by fireflies, and shortly before the rope swung upwards one gave enough light off to be reflected from the roof below.

Galatea let go and made a skidding landing, but eventually stopped safely while Father Mohr screamed. Finding her footing, she began running towards where Mohr pointed, arrows whistling through the air around them. Galatea jumped over several different rooftops and chimneys when a man's dark silhouette charged towards them. Since she was carrying Father Mohr, she carried no weapons save her fists. Luck however was on her side, as the man toppled over and off the roof, an arrow felling him moments before he was upon her.

Galatea kept running into the dark night, Mohr clutching tight now, but the ropes were loosening regardless, and Mohr shifted his grip as she made a final jump down into an open area far from where she thought the cathedral was. When she landed, she found Mohr's hands clutching around her breasts in desperation not to fall off. She knocked him off unceremoniously, and she turned around.

"I understand your desperation not to fall off, but for God's sake, any mention of where your hands accidentally went and you'll wish you never said anything at all," Galatea threatened him.

Mohr raised his hands meekly, appearing to profess his innocent intent. "I completely agree sister, and I do apologize. I do have one question before I leave for the army headquarters."

"Yes, what is it?"

Mohr hesitated, "Well," he began, "what if Colonel Miria refuses to help?"

Galatea's response surprised even herself, "If she betrays God's church, I'll kill her myself."

* * *

The bearded man stood no chance as he ran out onto the northernmost bridge over the Toulouse River. He was wearing a priest's uniform and was clutching a sealed message cylinder.

"Miata," Tabitha ordered, "knock him out, gently if possible."

Miata saluted, "Of course Ma'am."

They were standing on the western bank of the Toulouse River, watching for signs of church messengers sneaking out of the city. Miata scarcely wasted any time and tore off at an all-out run north, and in seconds encountered the priest, who looked grateful to see her.

When Miata charged forward instead of peacefully greeting him, the priest showed a moment's fear, and then Miata's flying kick knocked him down and unconscious. Tabitha hustled over to where Miata was, trailed by the athletic, tall Ursula, another member of the Elite Guard. Ursula hoisted the priest over her shoulders and ran off into the night towards the Elite Guard's nearby camp.

Miata asked, "Where's she taking him?"

"Sergeant Ursula is taking the priest back to be drugged by Corporal Julia," she told Miata, whose growth had pushed past her own height now, but was not yet especially womanly in features yet.

Miata asked, "Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"

"When Colonel Miria has made decisions in the past, they have always been the right ones. She helped save me and five other comrades from death during the Northern War, she trained us for seven years, then after that she revealed the truth about the Organization and overthrew it. Colonel Miria has always been on the correct, and in my opinion, she always will be," Tabitha answered Miata frankly.

"But what if Miria makes a mistake?"

"Colonel Miria doesn't make mistakes, ever, period," Tabitha yelled at Miata, who cringed.

Another claymore ran up wearing navy-blue leather and steel pauldrons, her short pixy-cut hair distinguishing her easily from Miata, who was the same height.

"Sergeant Alessandra reporting in," the warrior said matter-of-factly, "We have drugged, sedated and detained all of the army's chaplains. Corporal Katrin said that she's captured another messenger exiting the southern gates, and will be bringing him to camp."

"It sounds like the coup is going as planned. Lieutenant Miata, you will take Katrin's place at the southern walls and capture any messengers slipping out of the city. Corporal Alessandra, you'll remain here and patrol, and Sergeant Ursula should be back shortly to back you up," Tabitha ordered Miata and Alessandra. "In the meantime I will be reporting our efforts to Commander Renee and then return to watching the western walls."

* * *

"Let me put it to you clearly Cid dear," Miria stated, "you're either not going to interfere, or I'll be forced to put you in irons."

Cid was seated in the command tent of the army, its expansive interior lit by several candles. Miria was seated before a makeshift table, a map of Rabona and its surroundings upon the table, marked full of enemy troop concentrations in black ink. The army and the command tent were located outside the city, where she'd kept them in order to give the Council of Lords the breathing room they needed to overthrow the incompetent, suicidal Holy Council's military command.

"Miria, look, I've done a lot of things for you in my life, but standing by while you allow a coup d'état by the Council of Lords was not what I imagined that to mean," Cid complained. "I swore an oath to the church to defend it, how can I preserve my honor now by betraying them?"

Miria walked forward and sat down before Cid upon a chair facing away from him.

"I'm not asking you to do this just for me, Cid. Think of the people who are depending on the army saving Rabona," Miria said sympathetically.

Cid looked her in the face, "Do you really have to overthrow the church to do it though?"

Miria reasoned, "You know we have to act or else that barbarian king will take this city without a fight. I'm not a bad person, nor are the people of the church, but for the sake of Rabona's people I have to fight. I need to know if you're with me. Are you going to be my man or the church's man?"

Behaving like this with Cid wasn't her ideal choice, but she needed to know his loyalties and to find out just how deep his love for her would take him.

Cid blushed and then bit his lip, "I don't know if I can agree to this. Plus I'm not sure you should be offering me marriage when things are so—"

"Cid," Miria huffed. "I need to know now."

Cid's shoulders slumped, "Alright Miria, you've got your man."

Miria smiled, "Thank you dear."

She got off her chair, pushed it to the side, settled into Cid's lap, and leaned in. Cid's lips met hers and they shared a passionate embrace.

It was during this this moment that Natalie awkwardly walked in on them. Cid knocked her off his hips before Natalie could notice. Miria fell to the ground on her back as Cid's cheeks turned a bright red. Miria in the meantime was hidden from Natalie's view by the table.

"Hey," Natalie informally addressed Cid, "I was wondering if you would like one of Miria's kittens, Captain Malaga."

Cid tried not to blush, but evidently had other things on his mind, as he was busily crossing his legs and looking uncomfortable.

"That's very kind of you to offer Natalie, but..."

"Awww, but just look at them!"

Miria couldn't see the kittens from under the table, so the conversation seemed strange. She could see the mother cat pawing furiously at Natalie's left leg though. It was "Miria", Natalie's pet orange tabby-cat.

"But Miria makes really special kittens," Natalie pleaded. "Don't you want just one of her kittens?"

Cid by now was evidently suppressing a rush of blood to his extremities, as he anxiously crossed his armored legs over a third time, squirming.

"Well I suppose one would be alright," he winked as he accepted an orange-and-black spotted kitten so young its eyes hadn't opened yet. "But you shouldn't take them away from their mother when they're so young. How about later," he offered, handing the blind kitten back to Natalie.

"Ok, I'll give them back. I wouldn't want mother to be mad at me," Natalie said.

Miria heard Natalie's footfall leaving the tent, with the mother cat following after her, frantic.

Cid let out an explosive sigh of relief. "Alright mother hen, you can come out. Evidently your daughter didn't see you."

Miria stood up breathing deeply. "That girl's something else."

There came a rap on the tent's fabric, at which Cid jumped out of the chair.

"Yes?"

"It's Commander Renee, may I come in?"

"Certainly."

Renee walked in, looking tense but happy, and saluted promptly.

"I bring word from Captain Tabitha of the Elite Guard," Renee stated.

"Which is?"

"They've captured 18 messengers who managed to slip through the city's walls. They've also drugged all the army's chaplains, and Captain Tabitha has all 9 of her subordinates in the squad on watch duty."

Miria nodded her agreement. "Very good then, any sign from the city?"

Renee shook her head.

"Commander Renee, could you escort Captain Malaga back to his tent and make sure he doesn't wander off?"

Renee looked at Cid with a malevolent grin on her face, "I will once I hear the reason why you were talking about how great Miria and my "racks" were within earshot of Natalie."

"Ah shit," Cid cursed.

"Cid!"

"It was an honest mistake Miria, you know I would never intend for Natalie to hear me and Galk talking about stuff like that," Cid apologized.

"So dear," Miria continued, smirking, "you were saying something about forgiveness?"

"Alright, alright, we'll get married like you want," Cid relented.

"That's got to be the most bizarre marriage proposal I've ever seen," Renee laughed.

* * *

It was in the middle of the night when Miria heard a shriek of squabbling outside the commanding officer's tent. She rushed to help when a white boot smashed into her chest, driving the wind from her and sent her backwards over her strategy table. Miria took the momentum the kick had given her and flipped backwards, barely landing on her feet. There, kneeling with her claymore and wearing a look of fury, was the milky-eyed Sister Galatea, completely clad in a blue nun's uniform.

"This treason will end now," Galatea said in a cold fury. "I've come to relieve you of command, and I'll use lethal force if I have to."

Miria drew her sword as Galatea rose to her feet, her sword also drawn into a fighting stance, feet wide. Galatea's uniform was incomplete, as her habit had fallen off her long, stately blond hair.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about Galatea. I am merely camped with the Holy Guards and have no idea what you're talking about," Miria answered, blatantly but necessarily lying.

Galatea shifted her sword into a swinging stance, evidently intending to continue the fight.

"There was an uprising in the city today by over a thousand armed citizens. The Holy Council suspects that they were supported by the Council of Lords. The Bishop's Guard managed to protect the Teresian Cathedral, and we thought we had secured the stalemate necessary..."

Galatea rushed ahead unexpectedly, swinging the sword in a vicious horizontal cut at waist height. Miria merely rolled underneath, tripped Galatea, and turned around.

"It's pointless trying to fight sister. You are out of practice and I have been fighting and training for the last two years. It would be for the best if you surrendered now," Miria suggested.

Galatea bristled, getting up off her dirtied blue nun's dress and standing up.

"I know you approved the coup attempt Miria, and for that God's judgment will stand upon you even if mine won't," Galatea said, ignoring her suggestion. "We sent a total of eighteen messengers out, but none seemed to get far past the city gates. What I did find after I left the cathedral was a sentry line of your personal Elite Guard squad led by Tabitha standing guard just outside the city. You personally betrayed the only caretakers of the poor, needy, and abused this city has! "

Galatea rushed forward again, and this time Miria didn't even bother dodging. Instead she gauged Galatea's swing, and with a furious speed, swung diagonally. Galatea's sword flew out of her hands as Galatea gasped in shock at her disarming. Miria held her sword out, the piercing point just short of Galatea's face.

"As I said sister, you cannot win. You know, when we defeated the Organization two and half years ago, I had high hopes for Rabona's government. I envisioned Rabona's government expanding to bring order and good government to the people of this island. But instead I found an incompetent and unambitious theocracy unwilling to even attempt to guard the pilgrimage routes. You talk about God's will, but wouldn't God care about protecting the lives of his most faithful worshipers?"

"That is blasphemy; no one can claim such things after siding with the aristocrats," Galatea snapped, remarkably bravely for being disarmed and having a sword before her face.

"No, it is not. The holy book says that rulers and governments are not worthy of governing the people if they cannot help and protect them. Perhaps the Rabona Orthodox Church has forgotten its own teachings," she suggested to Galatea.

Behind Galatea two people stopped just inside the tent, Commander Renee and Lieutenant Colonel Galk, both in their armor. Their reaction was to gape at the scene before them, so Miria adjusted her tactics to fit the scene.

"I don't know why you've gone mad sister, but I assure you I can offer you help if you..."

Galatea took the bait, grabbing the sword pointed at her in a fit of raw anger, pushing it aside and throwing herself at Miria in a flying tackle. Galatea knocked her onto the ground as yelling came from behind Galatea. Galatea began screaming in incoherent rage as she threw punches, which Miria barely attempted to defend. They rolled around on the muddy grass, a mess of struggling limbs, while Renee and Galk shouted. Abruptly Galatea went limp and slumped over.

Renee had smashed the flat side of her sword into Galatea's head, looking shocked. Galk, who was looking equally shocked, helped Miria up with a hand.

"I'm truly sorry Colonel, if I had known the sister had fallen into such a state," Galk gasped, "I would have come to your aid immediately."

"Thank you Lieutenant Colonel Galacon. That was quick of you Renee."

"I'm sorry I wasn't faster," Renee sighed.

"Lieutenant Colonel, I want you to shackle sister Galatea and imprison her on grounds of assault and battery against an officer in the Holy Guards."

Galacon nodded, "Of course Colonel. I must beg your pardon, but there is one message a member of the Rabona Orthodox Church passed on to me. He wished me to open it immediately, but of course that would have been inappropriate without your permission."

He handed her a sealed white package, bowing from the waist.

"Thank you Lieutenant Colonel," Miria acknowledged. "Take Galatea away and shackle her. Make certain to hold her in camp until I find an appropriate place for her imprisonment."

"The message is from the Holy Council, Colonel, are you not required to open it immediately?"

"Considering a member of the said Holy Council just attacked me, I believe they will have much more to answer for than me. The enemy army couldn't possibly get to the city, so it can wait till morning. The last five messages they sent me contained sermons to deliver to the troops anyways," Miria reasoned to Galacon. "You are dismissed for the evening once Galatea is properly under guard."

"Thank you Colonel," he nodded. Galk motioned to a pair of gaping soldiers at the tent's entrance and they grabbed the unconscious Galatea, shackling her hands and feet in irons. Galatea was unceremoniously dragged out of sight when Renee let out a relieved sigh.

"Thank goodness you're quick," Renee sighed when Galk had left. "We really dodged one there didn't we?"

"We still have to wait until morning, but by then the situation I hope will be much improved."

* * *

At dawn a messenger wearing red instead of the customary holy white trotted into camp. His message was much as they expected. The Rabona Orthodox Church and the Rabona Council of Lords announced that they had come to a compromise regarding governance of the city-state. The Council of Lords would gain control over the command of the military and foreign policy, while the church would retain its rights in all other areas.

The message also announced that because of the shift in command, the Holy Guards were renamed the "Army of Rabona". All chaplains in the army were now serving at the discretion of the Council of Lords. The message finished by saying that she, Colonel Miria, was promoted to Major General. The messenger had also delivered into her hands an ornate, white-plumed helmet to denote her rank. Though there was some grumbling amongst the more religious troops about the deal, it was accepted without mutiny. Miria wasted no time in calling a meeting with the top officers to settle upon a strategy for the coming conflict.

Miria glanced around the commander's tent at her officers. Commander Renee was seated in one corner, Captain Nina the opposite. In between them were a number of human captains as well as Miria's second-in-command, Lieutenant Colonel Galacon. Seated beside him was Commander Nadia, who had been recently appointed to command the new 1st Swordsmen Battalion. They were all seated around the temporary strategy table Miria had had erected overnight in the command tent's center.

"Officers, you've been called here today because of the news you no doubt heard earlier. The clergy has agreed to relieve themselves of command of the military in this time of crisis. Obviously the situation militarily is bad, but not as dire as it looks. King Charles has drawn up his forces around us in a blockade in the past week. Our scouts say he only just completed the encirclement to the east."

Lieutenant Colonel Galacon raised a hand.

"Yes Lieutenant Colonel?"

"About the blockade, where are his troops, and how many of them are there?"

"Captain Tabitha," Miria called.

Tabitha ducked under the entrance of the tent.

"At your service General," Tabitha acknowledged with a salute.

"Captain Tabitha's Elite Guard has been acting as our scouts in addition to what little cavalry we have. Captain, would you would mark out the enemy troop positions and types for the other officers?"

"Certainly ma'am," Tabitha answered. Tabitha stepped towards the map and pointed to the east.

"The blockade by the enemy forces we can confirm is complete. King Charles' forces are already attempting to build a crude set of eight fortifications on the eight highest hills around the city. They are stationed relatively evenly ten miles away from the city in a circle. He has one hill-fort to the northwest, another due west, and so on. They arranged around us like points on a map."

Commander Renee asked, "What are his troops' types and numbers?"

Captain Tabitha glanced up to answer. "As far as we can tell he has 10,000 troops total, all distributed equally between the eight hill-forts. That would make 1250 troops at each fort, with the majority of the forces composed of infantry and archers. His cavalry numbers around a 1000 strong."

"Clever bastard," Captain Helen remarked. "He's able to pin us down if we attack anywhere and reinforce with the nearest two garrisons immediately. We'd be hard-pressed even before he brought up the rest of the force."

"It's not actually as clever as he thinks," Commander Nadia spoke up. "Rabona is in most dire need of metals and food right now. If he thought about our needs, he would have distributed the majority of his forces north of the city. If we hit there, we cut his supply lines."

"He's smart enough though to have fortified his troops, placed them on hilltops with views of the river valley, and the distances involved mean he'll have plenty of time to react. He's guaranteed we'll be outnumbered if just two hill-fort garrisons join against us in the field," Helen countered, standing up. "It's suicidal to attack."

"You mean during the day," Miria corrected her feuding subordinates.

They all turned to look at her as comprehension dawned on the officers' collective faces.

Miria pointed to the northwest hill-fort. "King Charles is counting on being able to see our movements when we attack. Therefore we will move when the night covers our plan of attack."

They nodded in agreement before Captain Tabitha raised her hand, "I would like to request the honor of having the Elite Guard lead that attack."

"I had been planning on it," Miria answered. "Now then, we'll be giving you all sealed orders after this evening which you will open at sundown. Are there any issues you wish to ask about now?"

Galk raised his hand to speak, then stood up. "As you know General, I've been recently promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, but as a result the 1st Pikemen Battalion has no commanding officer. As this is an unacceptable during a battle, I would like to forward my recommendation for its new commanding officer," he announced.

"Which is?"

"Due to outstanding improvement in command and the excellent performance of her company, I would like to recommend Captain Helen for Commander of the 1st Battalion," Galk stated.

Renee mouthed, 'Helen?'

"Very well, Captain Helen, you will be promoted to Commander of the 1st Battalion following this meeting," Miria decided.

Helen looked bewildered at first, and then deliriously happy and grateful. Captains Murat and Lannes shook her hands in congratulations. It was a joyous end to a meeting that had sobered many...

* * *

The meeting had been an enthusiastic and productive one, and ended with Helen's joyous celebration of her promotion. Miria had told her to inspect the troops and get the 2nd Infantry Battalion ready for the fighting to come.

"I'm counting on your battalion Commander Renee," Miria had said, squeezing her shoulder.

The men began assembling just as dusk fell. Their armor was markedly different than it had been, with no plate armor below the waist. This was done because it would not have been possible to run twenty miles in one night, while fighting, all in plate armor. Renee sighed as she looked at the necessarily lightened armor protecting the men around her; it didn't give her confidence.

Renee nearly jumped in surprise when she felt a large hand settle upon her shoulder.

A deep male voice asked, "Are you a little jumpy Commander Renee?"

Renee turned around to find Lieutenant Colonel Galacon standing over her, his hand covered in a cool steel gauntlet.

"Well, no more than is normal before the battle that determines your survival," Renee admitted. "I'm a little worried the men won't be armored enough for the big fight."

"They've got enough plate armor to fight, but its light enough to allow them to pull off the general's plan," Galk reassured her, "Speaking of armor, why aren't you wearing your gauntlets?"

Renee stared at her bare hands with slight apprehension.

"I'm a defensive warrior," she explained. "We can regenerate enough to survive in combat."

"That's quite useful, but for example's sake Commander, put them on," Galk ordered.

"Yes sir."

Renee watched him leave with annoyance, as she went back into her tent, grabbed the steel gauntlets, and put them on.

Captain Murat entered the tent wearing his armor and a steel helmet.

"Commander, the captains are concerned about the troops' armor weight. We wanted to know if you would allow the men to ditch the shields in order to hit the enemy sooner," Murat asked.

"We both know they can deal with the weight on a forced march. Most importantly, we need the shields for the Bouclier Formation later," Renee noted.

"Very well," Murat said unhappily. "But that's a long way in one night, and my boys will be fighting as well. I only hope General Miria knows she'll need a miracle to push the men that far."

"General Miria has a habit of doing miracles," Renee stated, almost smiling.

Murat frowned, dubious, but saluted and promptly left the tent.

Captain Nina walked in past the departing Murat, her armor a study in contrasts to those of her troops. Nina was wearing the chain-mail tunic of a warrior, a steel helmet, pauldrons, and no other armor besides what little protection her leather outfit provided her extremities.

"The troops are assembled Commander," Nina informed them.

"Very good, we move out immediately."


	7. Chapter 6: The Night Assault

**Chapter 6: The Night Assault**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**The city-state of Rabona's government since 605 B.L.E. has been known as the "Holy City of Rabona". The Rabona Orthodox Church for many years held an unassailable hold over the religion of the island of Toulouse. It was not until 405 B.L.E. that the Holy Guards of Rabona military reach was expanded beyond the city's walls. Rabona was soon ruling an empire of both faith and martial might. At its height in 202 B.L.E. the Bishop of Rabona, ruling in conjunction with the Holy Council of the Rabona Orthodox Church, had unified the entire island of Toulouse. The church's grip over the island was broken in 158 B.L.E., when a dissident priest announced his discovery of a new holy book deep in the church's very own archives.**

**The church's holy book was now rivalled by these new "holy scriptures", which supported a polytheistic faith worshiping the twin goddesses of Love, Teresa and Claire, in addition to the supreme god of Rabona. The scriptures, by describing Teresa and Claire as gods rather than angels, attacked a core tenet of the church's beliefs. Unsurprisingly the Holy Council's reaction was both terrible and swift. However its use of the Holy Guards to massacre non-believers sparked a massive revolt in the western lands of Lautrec. Rebellion broke out throughout the western lands, and civil war tore the island apart. By 120 B.L.E., the Rabona Orthodox Church's power was but a shadow of its former self. The Holy Guards by this time barely patrolled beyond the city's walls. It was a mere ten years after this time that the first mention of Yoma is made in Rabona's records...**

* * *

"Thank goodness Camilla wasn't allowed to go," Captain Virginia sighed, "right Natalie?"

They were watching the Army of Rabona quietly assembling and moving out into the night from the fortified walls of the city. Natalie and Virginia were standing atop the walls just south of the central southern gatehouse, which Natalie could barely make out due to the burning torches atop its four towers. In contrast none of the two thousand soldiers heading northwest and north were so easily visible, as they could not afford to use torches while making a surprise night time attack. Natalie folded her arms against a chill wind and looked over at Virginia.

Natalie nodded in agreement, "Camilla's too upset to fight rationally. But I kind of wish I was out there myself fighting alongside Renee or mom."

"You know what your 'mother' would think of you Natalie, if you disobeyed orders and got yourself hurt," Virginia noted with a reassuring rub on the shoulders.

"I know," Natalie mumbled unhappily.

"Miria will win, don't worry," Virginia added.

Natalie asked, "Why aren't you fighting Virginia?"

Virginia sighed, "The truth of the matter is I don't like fighting, Natalie. Miria doesn't know that, but it doesn't matter. Right now the important thing is that I'm in command of Rabona's defenses, even if my subordinates are badly equipped."

"Why aren't we sending more of the two thousand men we still have in Rabona?" If we're trying to win, wouldn't it be easier with three thousand men instead of the two thousand mom is commanding?"

"Somone has to hold Rabona while Miria's army attacks the enemy. I wish we could send more to help Miria, but I'm fairly certainly most of my men are nowhere near ready to see combat," white-haired Virginia sighed. "Only a third of them even possess basic armor, their best weapons are spears, their combat training has barely begun, and chances are they'd run rather than fight. No Natalie, your mother has all the forces worth anything. She needs us to hold Rabona at all cost if the plan is to work," she explained.

Natalie asked about her deepest fear, "She's going to live, isn't she?"

Virginia looked out at the barely visible columns of men force marching under dim moonlight before sighing, "To be honest Natalie, I don't know whether Miria's plan will work, at least from what details I know. I wouldn't expect all of the warriors and certainly not all of the men to come back alive. Your mother on the other hand is probably the most powerful warrior I've ever met, aside from Claire and Raki, and they've vanished. She's equal to any Number 1 from the Organization," Virginia smiled. "Number ones don't tend to die unless they're fighting one of their own kind."

A pair of torch-wielding common soldiers approached.

"Captain Virginia, Lieutenant Camilla requests your help with the prisoner," a guard said.

Virginia frowned, then put on her steel helmet, and turned to Natalie, "You can come along and help me reason with Galatea if you'd like," Virginia offered.

"No thanks," she answered.

Virginia moved off, escorted along the wall and out of sight into the nearly pitch black night. Natalie could not see the army anymore, but she could feel the yokis of the warriors that accompanied it. Miata's yoki, alongside Tabitha's and eight others were moving out ahead of the others. She could feel Miria's yoki, which radiated like a star, Renee's steady yoki, and Helen's yoki radiating anxiety.

A nicer breeze swept the ramparts of Rabona's wall as Natalie anxiously curled up her arms. It was obvious, even at a distance of ten miles, where the enemy was: three hills, one northwest, another due west, and the last southeast blazed with the lights of small campfires. Miria's yoki was heading, along with every other warriors' yoki, straight towards the northwestern enemy camp. A familiar scent brushing past her nostrils was all the warning she had.

"Good evening young one," an eloquent, sinister male voice said behind her.

Natalie jumped and turned around to find a man dressed in all black, his eyes covered bizarrely with large rounded, darkened sunglasses, and a circular black hat.

"Who are you?"

She nearly yelped in surprise, all the while looking around for her sword.

"My name's Louvre," the modest-sized man in black answered. "Were you looking for this?"

He held out a large double-edged claymore with Natalie's unique symbol upon its blade.

"Hey!"

"Come now child, do you think me so foolish as to face an armed warrior in this era?"

Miria had mentioned something to her once about the spy she'd encountered in the Organization. He'd been rather cunning, had nearly gotten Miria and her half-awakened comrades killed through his plotting, and he'd worn-

"You, you're Rubel the traitorous spy from the Organization, aren't you?"

"Traitorous is such a harsh adjective; I prefer to think of myself as the insider who helped the rebels destroy the Organization from within," Rubel said, holding the claymore easily in one hand.

"You tried to kill mother," Natalie said, advancing a step towards Rubel.

"Nah uh, not a step further Natalie," he said, surprising her with his knowledge. "Yes, I know who you are."

"What do you want?"

She looked along the walls for some sign of the guards who should have been patrolling.

"Your guards were surprisingly easy to bribe," Rubel noted candidly in a chillingly nonchalant tone. "I merely came here because I wanted to see how my former warriors were doing, that's all."

"Mother says not to trust you; I may be young, but I know you can't be up to any good," Natalie stated while looking around for help.

"That's very human of Miria and you, becoming mother and child like that. I suppose after the Organization's fall, it was merely a matter of time. I had never thought I'd see the day when warriors would desire to raise children of their own. It's just too bad Miria's having to compensate for her inability have children by adopting a hopelessly incompetent warrior like yourself," Rubel goaded her.

Natalie resisted the urge to charge right at him, as he was holding the claymore like it was a light weight for him, despite his old appearance. "She adopted me because I was special to her," she said defensively.

"It's an ingenious lie, but if you're so special, why aren't you by your mother's side? Could it be that she thinks you're a worse warrior than even ex-No. 45 Julia?" Rubel asked, a wicked smile upon his face.

"Shut up old man!"

Rubel kept prodding her, "How can it be that you alone did not merit a position in the military?"

"She said she couldn't bear to see me hurt-"

"Ah, that sounds like Miria. She adopted the one warrior whose presence would make no difference on the battlefield. Then she told you that you were special," Rubel remarked.

"I am not useless," Natalie shouted loudly, drawing a glance around by Rubel.

"Besides," he continued, confident he hadn't been seen, "Miria can't afford for her daughter to screw up her battle plans like she did when Rabona was besieged, so she excuses her from any action."

"I did not screw up her plans...much," Natalie admitted, the line coming out first as a shout then fading as she made an unhappy realization.

"I have to admit I didn't anticipate Miria being so bold as to attempt a night time attack on half the enemy army," Rubel said with a sly smile.

Natalie frowned, "What do you mean half the enemy army?"

Rubel smirked, "Miria is going to attack four of the eight enemy forts in one night. To do it she'll have to hit—"

Rubel didn't get a chance to finish, as another warrior came up behind her at a terrible speed. She had white hair in a flowing, braided, long ponytail, and a look of cold fury upon her face. Virginia made a low jump, holding her claymore behind her back for the killing blow. In the midst of her jump there was a bang and a blinding white flash that lasted for several seconds.

When it was gone Natalie found Virginia shielding her eyes in the midst of a cloud of white smoke. It cleared, and she noticed her sword at Virginia's feet; Rubel was nowhere in sight.

"Rats," Virginia rasped, "I almost got that bastard."

"Thanks Virginia," she mumbled as Camilla and a column of torch-wielding spearmen ran up on the wall from the other direction.

Virginia asked Camilla, "Any sign of him?"

"None Captain," Camilla said a little stiffly.

Virginia turned to her from Camilla, "What were you doing Natalie?"

"I left my sword behind me and he took it, so I was stuck talking to-"

"Don't be a useless idiot Natalie," Camilla snapped. "You should never let your sword leave your side! The next time you see that murderous man, do us some good and kill him!"

"Why?"

Camilla rolled her silver eyes, while Virginia sighed.

"She's the same as always cousin," Camilla snapped, impatient and annoyed.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Camilla, for your oh-so-kind words," Virginia snapped at her smaller, more attractive cousin, an act which shushed Camilla momentarily. "Natalie, the reason I attempted to kill that man is that he's attempted to kill warriors through indirect means on several occasions. If he's here in Rabona, it can only be to undermine us."

* * *

As Major General of the army Miria was expected to lead from behind the front lines. But she was an elite warrior, and elite warriors could move faster cross-country than even horses. A half moon lit the way towards the far north-western hill fort that was their first target. She felt the ground fly beneath her feet as she ran along the flat flood plains. Ahead of her were ten warriors stooped low along a ridge near the hill. She crept up alongside Captain Tabitha and peered over a small ridge top.

Four pairs of sentries carrying torches and walking slowly at the bottom edge of the fort's hill were visible, numerous fires blazing in the not-yet fortified camp behind them. The members of the Elite Guard crept close, several of them wearing quivers of arrows and bows on their backs, which Miria couldn't remember training them to do. No matter, a long-distance attack on sentries would be just more useful, if not more so than a close-range sneak attack here.

"We'll need to silence the sentries to pull this off to maximum effect," Miria told Tabitha. "I want Lieutenants Miata and Clarice to take out the two pairs of sentries to the right. You'll take the rest of the squad Captain Tabitha, and wipe out the sentries to the left."

Tabitha acknowledged, and seven silver-eyed warriors followed her while Miata jumped into action, mother Clarice awkwardly running after Miata. Miata reached the first pair of sentries in seconds, and proceeded to noiselessly decapitate them. Tabitha's other warriors shot the other sentries, each dying pinioned with arrows. Miata landed next to her, got to her feet, and saluted crisply.

"Very good Lieutenant," Miria praised, "Keep on the lookout until Captain Tabitha returns."

Miata looked around as she took out a map. After half a minute Captain Tabitha returned, standing over Miria and the map stretched out on a rock. All around her Tabitha's subordinates were standing guard, giving Miria a secure feeling.

"The remaining sentries have been taken care of General," Tabitha noted. "Do you want us to hem in the enemy camp on the hill until the others arrive?"

"We can't afford it Captain. You will take the Elite Guard and mount a surprise assault on the northern hill garrison," Miria ordered.

"But we couldn't possibly fight that many soldiers," Tabitha protested.

"You won't have to; the cavalry companies will be joining in the attack. Most of the enemy will be asleep, and when they wake up, they will likely run rather than fight," Miria explained.

"So we're counting on the surprise of a night time attack to smash the enemy," Tabitha smiled.

The Elite Guard's ten warriors left immediately, all of them running at high speed to the northeast for their surprise assault on the northern fort of King Charles' army. In the meantime the commanders of the rest of the army had ridden up on horseback to meet with Miria just half a mile from the slumbering camp. The camp itself was dotted all over the deforested hill, its tents illuminated by several dozen campfires.

Commander Yuma and her archer battalion arrived first, as they were wearing the lightest armor. Yuma promptly saluted as she arrived, leading the column on horseback so as to be able to survey her troops.

"Commander Yuma, I want you to deploy your archers in a c-formation around the hill about 200 yards from the camp. You'll have to keep them quiet though. The sentries are all dead, but you'll need to hold the ground until the 1st Infantry Regiment arrives."

"What if they should notice us before then general?"

"Then you open fire with massed volleys and keep the camp in chaos until the infantry arrive."

Yuma raced off, motioning the eight-abreast column of archers past her, many of them panting from the torrid pace they'd kept up for the last few hours. The column split as five hundred archers quietly raced into positions around the small hill. Miria felt her heart race; she was responsible for her warriors, but never for so many other lives. The possibility of her plans failing was a terrible worry she had not dared tell anyone about.

If they didn't take out at least half the enemy army by surprise in the night, with minimal casualties, the plan was in jeopardy Miria reasoned. She noticed Galk riding up escorted by his subordinates, Commanders Helen and Renee, as well as Commander Nadia.

They conferred quickly over the map. "Commander Nadia, you will take the 1st Swordsmen Battalion and hold our center. Commander Helen's battalion will flank the enemy to the left, and Commander Renee's battalion will flank them to the right. The pikemen will attack with short swords and shields only. The pikes will be left behind your ranks once you're formed up for the attack. All three battalions will commence the attack after the Archers Battalion has unleashed three volleys, understood?"

"Yes general," they answered.

* * *

"Almost ready, eh Commander Renee?"

It took Renee a quick glance up from a set of maps to find the captains of her battalion arraigned nearby, folding their arms and tapping their feet in impatience. The only light to see by was that of the moon overhead, which just barely revealed a long line of pikemen awaiting the signal to attack the hilly encampment a mere two hundred yards before them. A few enemy soldiers could even be seen due to torchlight from the encampment's numerous torch posts.

"We're ready," Renee answered them, "the question is if the general is."

"She had better be," Captain Murat gruffly remarked, "I didn't march all those damn miles with my men just to call off the attack and run our asses back to Rabona before daylight breaks."

"Actually, since we don't have any way to tell time, who's to say dawn won't break any minute now," Captain Soult unhelpfully suggested, furthering the disquiet amongst the captains.

"Goddamn you Soult, why don't you grow a pair?" Silver-eyed Captain Nina butted in. "What we're about to do has never been attempted before. We're hitting the north-western fort at night around the same time our cavalry and the Elite Guard hit the northern fort. Then-"

"I get that," Soult shot back. "But what I don't get is how the general expects the men to fight after marching ten miles, and then marching another five miles and fight again!"

"Shut up," Renee warned Nina and Soult as an enemy soldier walked out of a tent on the encampment's edge, drowsily stretching and looking, Renee noted with deep unease, straight towards the night-concealed line of pikemen two hundred yards away. The man, apparently not seeing the enemy, went back into his tent and laid down.

"We shouldn't be this close," the pig-tailed Captain Alexandra added quietly, "It'll be a lot harder if they spot us before the attack."

"That's enough," Renee cut off Alexandra, "We are attempting something never before done in warfare on this island, so there's no way the enemy's prepared for it. We all know what we are going to do. We are going to attack and push through their camp all the way to the top of that hill," Renee pointed to the hilltop, where a large white tent sat protected by half-completed palisade walls. "Then we'll march southwest to hit the western fort before dawn. Commander Yuma, what's the news?"

Yuma had just brought up two lines of widely spaced archers, all of whom were frantically readying to fire. Yuma fired off a crisp salute from horseback.

"General Miria says to prepare all men for immediate attack," Yuma mentioned before galloping off into the night towards the center of the lines, out of sight to the left.

The captains of her pikemen battalion seemed glued in place, so Renee yelled as quietly as possible, "Join up with your companies...now!"

Nadia's nearby swordsmen battalion fell into combat stance in preparation to charge.

"Men," Renee called out, "drop your pikes in preparation to attack. We take the enemy camp at a full charge."

The men dropped their pikes with enthusiasm, and despite marching ten miles, some still had enough energy to look nervous. They had not long to wait, as the archers behind them raised their bows in their extended, widely-spaced line. A single flaming arrow flew high above the camp and at once was followed by the hiss of five hundred other arrows.

The arrows fell upon the camp, with numerous screams ringing out, and torches suddenly began being lit through the hilly enemy camp. At the camp's top, two large torches illuminated what looked to be the commander's tent. The archers, though hastily trained, managed to let loose another volley upon the camp. The final volley came just as the newly-lit torches were becoming much more numerous.

"Attack," Renee screamed, drawing her blade out for combat.

The double-line of soldiers behind her was practically on top of the camp already, and the charge brought them into the camp proper in half a minute. Several enemy soldiers with battle-axes rushed to stop her as she pushed forward of her troops. Renee bent one battleaxe nearly 180 degrees with one vicious swing, and then she killed its wielder with a horizontal slash across the neck.

Several enemy soldiers near Renee were intercepted by her men, who were smashing into the camp with great enthusiasm. Although most of the men were armed, few of their enemies were armored. Renee deflected the swing of two enemy soldiers with battle-axes, and then counterattacked. She kicked one in the chest while spinning to decapitate the other with a powerful sweep of her sword. The kicked soldier tried to run but instead was slashed down by one of her men.

Renee led on a squad of her men up the hill past a half-finished wooden palisade. A group of thirty spearmen rushed towards them, with six men at once jabbing their spears at her. Renee smashed aside the nearest two men's spears, dodged the others' attacks, and then dropped two men with a single diagonal uppercut slash.

A sharp pain came from Renee's back, where she found an arrow sticking out. A pair of archers had appeared behind her, a fact she had little time to consider as she jumped away from four spearmen jabbing at her. The jump took her over them and onto cleared land, where they charged her. One of them was cut down by a Rabonese soldier before the others turned to face the new threat. Renee never gave the enemy the chance to finish the Rabonese soldier.

He managed to block a spear jab with his shield, while Renee disarmed and brought down the spearman's two comrades in short order. She ran through the last one with her sword, and then withdrew it as the man slumped to the ground.

"Thanks Commander Renee," the soldier thanked her. It was his last words, as a pair of arrows caught him in the lightly armored neck. He went down with scarcely a sound. Renee turned to find an entire company of enemy archers forming up on the hill above her. She ran for her life as they unleashed a massed volley directly at her, and with a sting several arrows hit her in the arms and legs.

Renee got up, having fallen as three arrows had pierced her unarmored left leg. The pain was excruciating as she snapped them and pulled out the bodkin arrowheads. Her yoki energy began surging as she sprinted towards a wooden palisade to her left. Renee barely made it as another massive volley swept downhill and struck the wooden palisade wall.

"Shit," Renee murmured. She gripped the two arrows embedded in each arm, tugged, and with a scream, pulled them out. Almost immediately the wounds began closing as she pushed her yoki energy into healing. The two arrows stuck in her back had in fact barely pierced her armor, and came out with the first grab.

Renee heard a man shout the words, "Bouclier formation men, quick or we'll be shot through!"

She had her back to the palisade, and hazarded a glance right to see Captain Murat directing his company. The Rabonese soldiers got into formation, the front row huddling down, swinging their shields forward. The second row angled their shields, while the back rows held their shields straight up. The men on the sides of the formation held their rectangular shields to the side, protecting the company's flanks.

The archer company loosed a large volley against Murat's company, but all the arrows harmlessly glanced off the company's curved rectangular shields. Renee rushed behind the formation when Captain Murat waved her over.

"Very brave Commander Renee," Murat complimented her, "but I'm afraid the men would hate to see their commander shot to pieces by enemy archers. Alright men, on my signal, we are going to keep formation and push up the hill."

Renee glanced around to find all the enemy spearmen dead or dying on the down slope behind her. She could see that much of the lower camp was overrun, though numerous haphazard battles still continued. Fires were consuming much of the tents and supplies, while the remaining third of the camp above them was relatively untouched.

Renee ran after Murat's company, catching up just as another useless archer volley hit the formation. Giving up, the archers drew their short swords and charged the formation running downhill. On the face of it a smart tactic, but the archers had only light mail-armor and short swords. Murat's men kept formation, where their heavier armor and steel shields would give the greatest advantage. The archers were soon broken, their ranks either dead or routed. Murat and Renee charged into the top part of camp, took down the enemy commander's guards, and entered the command tent.

Renee followed them to find a single officer left, his hands raised in the air.

"I surrender," he pathetically whimpered. Murat's men led him away just as Miria came walking up, blood caked on her gauntlet-armored hands.

* * *

Miria entered the enemy command tent as Renee acknowledged her with a crisp salute.

"General, we've taken the enemy commander, what are your orders? Shall I redirect our men to reinforce the Elite Guard you sent to attack the northern garrison?" Renee asked, sounding hopeful.

"It's not necessary. Massed claymore attacks allow warriors to beat enemies outnumbered by even greater ratios. With Miata there, I expect the Elite Guard could defeat the enemy outnumbered 100:1 without the aid of a night time surprise attack," Miria remarked.

"But," Renee stammered, "they're attacking a detachment of 1250 soldiers, won't they need some more support?"

"Don't worry, I've sent our 2 companies of cavalry to attack that camp before I sent the Elite Guard to attack it," Miria pointed to the plainly visible flames on a distant hill to the northeast. "At this very moment the Elite Guard and the cavalry are already attacking the camp."

"So, are you sure the enemy won't get wise to our night time attack tactic, general?"

"Renee," Miria said, placing a reassuring hand on her left shoulder, "I've been through this already. There's absolutely no history, recent or ancient, of anyone attacking at night on this island. Where's all this second-guessing coming from?"

"My officers think it's suicidal to try to hit the western and northeastern camps...they don't think we have enough night to make it there and attack both camps," Renee admitted while soothing her worry by twirling braided hair.

"We know the math Renee," Miria butted back. "Our men can ordinarily cover 15 miles in a march, 20 if we push it."

Renee sighed, "But with all this combat added in the middle and at the end of that march? Aren't we asking the impossible of the men?"

"Maybe we are, but I'm not going to die fighting King Charles' army without trying my best strategy to defeat them," Miria declared.

"So what of the cavalry and the Elite Guard?"

"You of all people ought to know that attack on the northern fort is already going on," Miria pointed out to Renee, who nodded.

"They still have to go across the river on that pontoon bridge we spotted and march quite a ways to the north-east garrison," Renee pointed out. "What should happen if King Charles sends in his knights after them?"

"Then they run like hell southwest to Rabona, and hopefully they make it," Miria replied.

"So, you're saying that the cavalry and Elite Guard won't survive," Renee stated, half asked.

Miria sighed, "I've been to hell in Pieta over nine years ago Renee. Believe me, there's always a chance of survival."

* * *

"Captain Malaga sir," a cavalryman said, galloping up to his side, "we've overrun most of the southern tip of the enemy's northern camp."

Cid glanced from his position on his black stallion, his horse whinnying as the smell of fire reached them. They'd scythed down soldiers like stalks of wheat in the beginning, but resistance was hardening as the enemy fought to save their lives. Numerous tents were on fire now, the chaos added to by the haphazard combat, dead bodies, discarded weapons, and the odd flying arrow from the higher portions of the hill above them.

"Signal your squad to form up on me Sergeant," Cid ordered.

Ten heavily armored cavalrymen on horseback trotted into position as hundreds of their comrades charged, slashed and fought their way north around the hill. The opposition in the southern tip of the enemy camp was almost all gone, though a few enemy soldiers were still resisting.

"We're ready sir," the sergeant notified him.

"All right men, we're going to smash into remaining parts of the lower northern camp, so hold to your line with me," Cid said while prodding the stallion into a near gallop.

The men struggled to keep close, and they sped through lines of burning tents, the horses barely avoiding tripping on dead bodies underfoot. They had just passed through the narrow western edge of the camp when a line of swordsmen charged towards them foolishly.

The cavalry squad smashed through the two dozen swordsmen, knocking a half dozen to the ground. Cid cut down a man on his right with a longsword and then the squad of cavalry was through. It was obvious the claymores had their hands full smashing the opposition here, where at least several hundred enemy soldiers were still fighting. But that was about to change as cavalry poured into the fray from behind him and further to the right. The cavalrymen were whipping around the camp's central hill on both its western and eastern edges as they galloped into the northern part.

Cid spied a group of three claymores surrounded by at least ten times their number of enemy swordsmen and prodded the horse to move in their direction. The swordsmen almost scattered before he got there with the ten cavalrymen, as one of the girls was wiping out swordsmen with ease. His cavalrymen finished the job, scattering the men, whom Cid's company followed as he stopped to acknowledge the warriors.

"Thank you Cid," Tabitha said a little informally, breathing audibly, her forehead caked in dried enemy blood but otherwise unscratched. Her head jerked up towards the top of the fort with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Is something the matter Captain Tabitha?"

"Excuse me, but I've got to get to the top of the hill," Tabitha said, and with not another word took off running.

Tabitha then magnificently leapt the first of many wooden palisade walls on the central hill, heading at breakneck speed for the top. The other two warriors, whom he recognized as Ursula and Julia, also looked a little concerned.

"I'll need your help, warriors, with the remainder of the resistance," he told them. He led them into the fray again, where another five warriors were already flitting about, smashing unorganized masses of enemies and then slipping away before they could retaliate. He was nearly de-horsed when a spearman fell to his knees and jabbed upwards at the black stallion's belly. The horse however was lucky, and as it reared away from the spear its hoof hit the man's helmet, knocking him unconscious.

Ahead of him was Ursula, who blocked an attacking thrust with her claymore, then with a single, horrific slash of her sword, cut through the man's shield and cleaved off his shield arm. Cid noticed an archer aiming his bow at Ursula, who was facing the other direction from him. She turned around to see if there were any more enemies, and the archer loosed his shot. Cid could see it happening in slow motion, as Ursula's open-faced helmet in a macabre sense of perfection rotated to be allow the arrow a perfect opportunity.

The arrow hit Ursula in the eye socket; it took a moment before Ursula toppled to the ground.

He let out a guttural scream, "Noooo! Ursula!"

Julia whipped around in surprise and shock, and then made a stupefied face as she saw Ursula's body slumped on her back, an arrow sticking out of her face.

* * *

"I think I'll be alright Captain Tabitha," Clarice wheezed at her.

Tabitha ignored Clarice's statement as she took a hold of the arrow embedded into Clarice's neck. Miata was at Clarice's side, clutching her adoptive mother's hand, wearing a face mixed with worry and fury. Miata's eyes were still snake-eyed yellow, but Miata's yoki was fast declining, dropping from the dangerous levels of a few minutes earlier. Clarice had a number of arrows embedded in her, none of which besides the neck-embedded arrow were truly dangerous.

"You did well winning the battle," Tabitha praised Miata.

Miata smiled faintly, and then resumed her worried look, Miata's eyes turning back to their ordinary shade of silver. Miata's chain-mail, leather outfit, face, sword and steel helmet were horrifically coated in dried and drying blood.

"Hold your breath a moment Clarice, this is going to hurt," Tabitha told Clarice.

Miata could bear watching no longer and looked away. In a single deft move Tabitha plunged her fingers into the wound, gripped the arrowhead with her right hand and the shaft with the left, and then pulled. In a gush of blood, the arrow came out as Clarice coughed up blood.

"Sorry Clarice," Tabitha said, closing the wound with a hand as she threw the arrow away, "But I need you to push your healing."

Clarice's eyes glowed yellow and her pupils turned snake-like as Tabitha felt Clarice's yoki flowing into her neck. The hole beneath her hand began rapidly closing, but Clarice's yoki was spiking too high for comfort.

"Hold your yoki at that level Clarice, I'm going to synchronize my yoki with yours and speed up your healing," Tabitha told the faint-looking Clarice.

It was difficult to do, as Tabitha hadn't the experience of Yuma in yoki synchronization, but nevertheless Clarice's neck wound closed nicely, and Tabitha turned to pulling out the other arrows. Clarice cried out in pain as she pulled out the last one, Clarice's exhaustion slowing the healing.

"Oh my god," a male voice interjected.

Tabitha turned to find Cid, still armored, wearing a look of shock in his eyes as he glanced past her. Tabitha followed his glance, then sighed; the view was horrific; all about the command tent were the dismembered remains of former soldiers, hundreds of arrows embedded in everything, blood splattered everywhere, and even several pools of it gathering in small red puddles.

"Ursula's dead Captain," Cid announced sadly, "Julia brought her body up in case you might be able to-"

Tabitha turned back to face Cid, and saw Julia behind him, cradling the limp body of the once-proud Ursula. "I can't bring back the dead Julia," Tabitha told the small warrior, who was crying.

"Leave the body here," Tabitha ordered.

Julia stubbornly shook her head in refusal.

"We need to move out as fast as we can Sergeant Julia," Tabitha pointed out, "if we don't follow the plan, General Miria's plan will not work. Then what would Ursula think of you, letting her sacrifice be in vain?"

Gingerly Julia nestled Ursula's body on the ground, Julia's tears refusing to stop.

"Captain Malaga, if I might have a request, could you grab a dozen men and find some shovels. We need their help to give Ursula a proper burial," Tabitha requested.

Cid nodded his agreement, hopped on his horse, and trotted down the winding path to the hill's bottom and his men. It did not take long to dig Ursula a grave with a dozen men frantically aware that time was the thing they needed most. Julia lowered Ursula into a shallow grave as the other warriors watched alongside her, most shedding tears. Tabitha could not shed tears herself; she'd lost the ability to easily cry after the horrific massacre of her comrades at Pieta.

"I just can't believe she's gone," Cid sighed, watching his men cover her grave with packed dirt.

"If history proves anything Captain Malaga," Tabitha said with regret, "it's that even the most powerful are not invincible upon the field of battle. I would not be standing here with you today if Priscilla could not be killed."

Tabitha put her steel helmet atop her head and turned away, her warriors and Cid following her to travel down the hill. Captain Matilda, imposingly tall as always, looked over at her as Tabitha sat mounted atop her horse.

"We annihilated almost the entire camp of soldiers; I have ten prisoners of war awaiting your decision," Matilda said in a low voice.

"Send them north with blindfolds. Now we move out, seize the northern pontoon bridge across the Toulouse River and hit the north-eastern garrison before dawn," Tabitha stated.

Cid asked, "Then where shall we flee once King Charles' forces counterattack?"

"We'll be running back to Rabona temporarily, and then meeting up with the main army west of the city after we've resupplied and replaced our losses," she answered.

"How are Miria's forces doing?"

Tabitha ignored Cid's military etiquette, as he obviously had a personal relationship with Miria, answering, "Better than you would expect after marching as many miles as they have."

* * *

The pikemen, carrying armor, weapons, food and tent supplies upon their backs, looked exhausted as they trudged past Renee in the lessening dark of the early morning hours. The darkness was already alarmingly less than a mere half hour before.

"Commander Renee," a man with a white officer's cape said, approaching her on foot as his men marched by only a few feet away. It was Captain Murat, judging by his voice.

Renee acknowledged, "Yes Captain Murat?"

"The men's legs are almost giving out," he complained. "Can you not persuade the general to give them a five minute break?"

Renee turned to look at the nearby western hill upon which the enemy had encamped, its top and sides marked by a number of large campfires. After hitting the north-western fort, they'd hugged the forest edge on the western end of the Rabona flood plains. This was because no far-sighted enemy sentry could spot the attack column of 2000 men coming. They'd lost less than forty men attacking the first enemy hill-fort northwest of Rabona. By the looks of it the Elite Guard and the cavalry had managed to smash the northern hill-fort by surprise, the far distant hill blazing with out-of-control fire.

"Sorry Captain," Renee sympathized, "but if we want to win this war, we must wipe out half the enemy army tonight."

"I understand," Murat said quietly, and he trotted back to be alongside his men.

The rest of the march was a combination of quiet plodding and the collective curses of 2000 men who'd been driven as fast as possible. They were within a half mile of the western hill-fort when Miria galloped up, the eastern sky glowing with the first hint of dawn. Miria was an impressive figure in her armor, which was either gold-rimmed or entirely gold-gilded, except for her white leather-covered chain-mail shirt.

"Commander," Miria ordered with a hint of frantic stress, "form up your men into battle lines and the Bouclier formation." Miria's gold-gilded steel shoulder plates began to glow as sunlight eked its way into the sky.

"It will be difficult to attack quickly in that formation General Miria," Renee pointed out.

"The enemy on the western hill-fort is already getting ready to attack us," Miria almost growled, "they've formed up their troops into battle lines."

Miria raced off towards Nadia's swordsmen battalion trudging up the beaten path behind the pikemen as Nadia rushed up to greet her commanding officer. Renee turned her eyes away from this as the noise of five individuals rushed up to greet her: two warriors, the pony-tailed Nina and pigtailed Alexandra, and three human captains, shorter Murat, taller Soult, and the stout Lannes.

Alexandra asked in her kind voice, "Orders Commander?"

"Form the men up for battle, five deep, Bouclier formation, and prepare to receive an attack," Renee ordered.

The five captains raced off to their companies, Nina bellowing orders at her formation. The men hardly gave a hint of being tired as they ditched their packs and raced into formation. Renee caught a glimpse of the enemy's formations in the sun's early rays. Only a quarter mile away, at the foot of the hill, were a thousand enemy swordsmen beginning to march forward at a slow pace. Behind the swordsmen were several hundred archers readying their bows.

The swordsmen abruptly stopped while Renee's battalion of pikemen closed into battle formation, the men's weapons forming a near impenetrable layer of pikes four lines deep. The fifth row held their pikes aloft, awaiting action as replacements. Renee stood on the left of the formation, where she could get a good glimpse of the action.

The enemy archers rushed forward, and Renee realized why Miria had wanted Bouclier formation now. The men at last were pushing their curved rectangular steel shields forward, diagonally upwards, straight up or to the sides to cover them from fire. The enemy archers loosed a substantial volley of arrows, which ricocheted off the shields with a tremendous clanging.

Evidently the enemy commander saw that an arrow barrage had no effect, so the enemy swordsmen spread into a wide line that would hit both flanks of her battalion and its front.

"Out of Bouclier formation," Renee bellowed at the soldier holding the signal flags next to her.

The whole battalion swapped its shields and pikes down, preparing to receive the charge. The enemy commander however hadn't seen Helen's battalion rushing up the small hill they were on to the right, or Nadia's battalion of heavily armored swordsmen coming up on the left. The two battalions formed into combat lines flush with Renee's lines moments before the swordsmen hit.

It was a grisly sight, as a number of enemy swordsmen, armored in nimble lamellar armor, thought they could jump the wall of pikes. Their mistake was quickly made evident, as the latter rows of pikemen merely lifted their line of pikes to meet them. Screams of impaled men rang out, the first wave knocked back, but the many swordsmen had survived the charge.

Renee noticed that Commander Yuma's archer battalion was rushing past their left flank, well out past Nadia's line of swordsmen.

Renee muttered, "What in the world is Yuma thinking?"

Nadia, who'd been standing silently right next to Renee, spoke up, "That's actually pretty smart. Yuma's positioning our archer battalion so that it can do enfilading volleys on the enemy formation."

Suddenly there came an unexpected volley of arrows from the enemy's lines, some of which hit, which Renee and Nadia jointly cursed. A couple of soldiers from Renee's formation were wounded, having to be helped to the back cussing about their wounds.

"Bouclier Formation," Renee and Nadia both shouted, at which a wall of shields went up.

"They're faster than I expected," Nadia bitterly said.

They looked around at the sound of hoofs behind them to find Miria riding up behind the men as Yuma's archers loosed a horrific volley into the enemy archers.

"Looks like their commander wasn't as smart as he could be," Miria said, smiling darkly, "Prepare to attack! I want this battle over within the hour."

* * *

**-Western hill-fort's royal tent, 1 hour prior to Miria's attack-**

* * *

"Prince Philippe," a female voice said, his mind awakening at the sound of his name.

Philippe opened his eyes to find a faint glimmer of light visible in the hole cut above the royal tent's fire. It was obviously just around dawn, and his head hurt slightly from the alcohol he'd consumed the previous evening with his harem girls. He looked down to find the nude body of the large-breasted girl, Tatiana. Tatiana had her large breasts pressed against the side of his hips, her head resting atop his belly, her arms wrapped seductively around him, mumbling his name in her sleep.

He was on the royal bed, which was three times longer than his body was and just as wide. The bed was covered in red covers, and on either side of him, wrapping their arms around him, were two of the other girls he'd selected last week to start his harem. One was Adelita, who was tall, lean, and had long, straight brown-blond hair. The other was Patrizia, a 16-year-old girl he'd selected. She was very cute, with a near perfect face, beautiful legs, and shapely, well-rounded breasts smaller than Tatiana's.

He propped himself up with his arms, but didn't move otherwise, as doing so would wake up the girls before he wanted them to. He turned to find small brown-haired woman named Eugenia, who had begged him to save her from the clutches of his troops in return for doing anything. Eugenia was curled up near his head, all but her arms, shoulders, and head covered by the bed's thick red sheets. Eugenia wasn't the prettiest of the girls, but she'd been the most willing to please him.

Further away, chained to a post at the edge of the bed, was the black-haired, half-crazy girl, Violetta. Violetta had attempted to kill one of the other girls by suffocation with the chain connecting her handcuffs. As near as he could tell, Violetta had either done the act out of one of three reasons; wanting to be separated from the others, being bizarrely jealous of the others' time with him, or she was just plain psychotic. Violetta was very beautiful, and at the moment, very nude, but he was properly wary of her, and didn't want to test her temper when prematurely awoken.

That he was afraid of her was an irony; he'd had no qualms with signing the death warrants for the husbands, brothers and fathers of the girls he had slept with in the night. Of course they'd never find out; he had never intended to free any of the girls from being in the harem. They would also be completely cut off in all ways possible from the outside world. What little news and sights of the outside world the girls would never to know the fate of their loved ones.

Thus it was with some macabre irony that Tatiana woke up and affectionately kissed his chest, the man who'd killed a girl in front of her less than a week previously.

"You're up early," Tatiana murmured, hugging him tight.

"Not on purpose," Philippe admitted, "was the wine good?"

"So good it put me to sleep early," Tatiana answered, sounding regretful.

The first night had started with the girls all afraid of him, but this never lasted, especially once he undressed. He'd been a well-muscled youth of eighteen when the Organization fell and his father began a rapid rise to power two years ago; two years of combat training had only helped. His good looks however by the age of fifteen had started attracting women; his first time with a woman had been with a good-looking, much older female nun who'd evidently forgotten her oath of celibacy. By age eighteen, his good looks and the well-deserved rumor of his incredible endowment had many women throwing themselves at him. This had only occurred more often after becoming a prince.

When his father's right-hand man, General Davout, had suggested capturing slave women for his private pleasure, he'd taken the concept and ran with it. The first night with the girls went somewhat awkwardly, although he'd made certain to "deflower" the wide-eyed beauty Patrizia with great pleasure. He defused their unhappiness somewhat by announcing each of them would be getting a substantial allowance in return for being his harem consorts. Afterwards all but the half-crazed Violetta was more than happy to share their bodies with him.

Within two nights they'd settled into a routine of frenzied lovemaking at night, with Violetta only occasionally getting involved. It was last night, when he'd been sharing a moment of passion with Tatiana when Violetta had come forward and attempted to strangle her. Tensions from that incident were still high, and thus naturally the violent girl was sleeping with her legs and hands cuffed to a post at the end of the bed.

He decided to ask Tatiana a question as she sat up, "Tatiana, did you enjoy yourself with me?"

"Ah come on, any girl would enjoy spending time in bed with you, and you give me all sorts of nice gifts my ex-fiancée couldn't," Tatiana emphasized by shaking her pearl earrings. "You might be a tad violent," she said defensively, "but every day with you is always fun Prince Philippe."

"Glad to hear it," Philippe sighed.

Tatiana crawled forward and then wrapped her legs around his hips, smothering his neck in affectionate, passionate kisses while he pressed his hands against her large, well-rounded behind.

"Shall we do what comes naturally," Tatiana whispered low and naughtily. She was already exploring his backside with her hands, and pressed the warmth of her large breasts against him.

"You do want to be my queen, don't you?"

"Of course I want to give you your first-born son and be Queen, Prince Philippe. You shan't be disappointed in me conceiving; fertility runs in my family. My mother had twelve children by age thirty, and I'm sure we can better that, since I'm only eighteen," Tatiana laughed mischievously.

He noticed Violetta stirring at the foot of the bed, but she merely noticed Tatiana and then snorted, "I cannot believe the rest of you. He kills a girl right in front of you for resisting his advances and this is how you reward that behavior?"

"Phwww, whatever," Tatiana crudely countered. "That girl must have been insane to resist someone as handsome as Prince Philippe. Why is it you're still having this crazy bitch as a consort Your Highness?"

"Violetta is smart and might be useful for producing good heirs," Philippe explained.

"Girls' aren't supposed to be smart," Tatiana stated as if it were fact.

"If I ever get more power, you can be assured the rotten lot of your other consorts won't be allowed to have it," Philippe heard Violetta whisper.

Tatiana shouted, "What was that?"

"Nothing you need worry about," Philippe interjected, "let's just have some fun."

Violetta sniffed in disgust, tossing her head back onto the bed looking the other way. Patrizia, Eugenia, and Adelita continued lightly snoring around him, so he moved Tatiana away from the three sleeping beauties to an unoccupied part of the royal bed. There they made love at a frenzied pace as the other girls began waking up. Tatiana's bosom heaved up and down erotically as he thrust, spurring him on even more. Tatiana groaned involuntarily as he thrust into her from behind. He felt a surge of pleasure and couldn't hold back any longer.

His manhood let loose with a pleasurable lurch into Tatiana's womb once, again, and then one final time. Tatiana got up, chest heaving from their lovemaking going on for so long, then kissing him affectionately on one cheek.

"You all seem very complacent," Violetta commented as Tatiana left the bed to clean up.

"I'm not complacent about you threatening the others," he shot back.

"I didn't mean them, although if I were to become queen, you most certainly wouldn't have a harem. What I want to know is why you think we're all perfectly safe here," Violetta demanded, suddenly sitting up as Patrizia, Adelita and Eugenia eyed the patrician Violetta carefully.

Philippe snorted, "We're on top of a five-hundred foot high hill, with over a thousand troops around us, and we have 2500 troops within easy marching distance, what could possibly threaten us?"

"Phantom Miria and Rabona's army," Violetta said, sounding sure.

Having recovered from his lovemaking bout with Tatiana, his manhood perked up once more as he grabbed a pleasantly surprised strawberry-blond Eugenia by the nubile hips and began pressing his interest into her.

"Is that all you care about besides the trappings of power?" Violetta queried, observing him remarkably nonchalantly while he thrust into the narrower, athletic hips of Eugenia.

"I care about heirs," he said while Eugenia involuntarily moaned his name, "and having as many of them as possible."

"Then you're a fool," Violetta remarked while he continued his pursuit of bodily pleasures, "The more heirs you have the more potential for conflicts in your succession. Besides that, do you really think Phantom Miria will let a pacifist church stop her from launching a counteroffensive?"

Philippe was so distracted by Violet's suggestion he hadn't restrained his urges and released his seed prematurely into Eugenia. She nonetheless seemed quite pleased he had, as Eugenia rolled away messy and grinning. Eugenia then left to follow Tatiana, who was having a warm bath in a wooden tub in the far corner of the royal tent.

"You see what you made me do?"

"Ohh," Violetta clasped her hands to her cheeks while speaking with evident sarcasm, "I'm so very sorry. Whatever will you do?"

"Shut up woman," Philippe shouted at her.

"If I were Phantom Miria, I'd take advantage of the fact that your hill-forts aren't completed yet, the fact that each is miles from the others, and that the Rabonese army is bigger than each of the garrisons," Violetta noted with remarkable accuracy.

"You're suggesting that Phantom Miria's going to attack an army five times as large as her own," he scoffed, "she's not suicidal from what I've observed."

"What preparations have you taken in case Phantom Miria's forces were to attack at night?"

"A night time attack? It's just past dawn, and besides-"

He was about to talk further when then they were interrupted by a large rapping on the inner layer of the royal tent by a man hidden by the tent's inner cotton wall.

"Yes, I'm very busy, so what is it?"

The girls didn't even pause in their passionate attentions upon Philippe as he talked.

"Sorry Your Highness," Captain von Mannstein's voice came through the tent's inner wall, "but it's an emergency. Colonel Igersen has engaged the enemy."

The girls paused as he motioned for them to stop while Violetta smirked triumphantly in an 'I-told-you-so' manner, "How many?"

"Your Highness, Colonel Igersen would like to express his apologies," the captain went on.

Philippe got up, rushing to his clothes as the girls looked on, frowning. He put on an under-tunic, tights, and socks even as Captain von Mannstein continued talking.

"Colonel Igersen's sentries noticed what they thought was a small column of 500 enemy pikemen approaching to attempt a dawn attack, so he mobilized the entire 1250 man garrison to destroy them. Unfortunately he underestimated the enemy's strength, and instead of 500 men there are 2000 men attacking as we speak."

Philippe could vaguely hear the clanging of steel on steel and shouting in the distance.

"Get my royal carriage ready for immediate departure; we'll put my consorts in it and send them on to the south-western fort if it hasn't been attacked. Get your asses dressed," he shouted at his startled harem girls.

Philippe put on a chain-mail shirt, grabbed a sword and ventured outside to get a look. He almost died as soon as he did, as an arrow missed his head by mere inches, burying itself into the tent's side behind him. He rushed forward, and then surveyed the scene at the edge of the hilltop. Below him, on the northern edge of camp was a huge melee between the western hill-fort swordsmen and what looked like an enemy army of pikemen and swordsmen.

The enemy hadn't broken through to the southern half of camp yet, which they'd have to in order to reach the royal tent.

"Captain von Mannstein," Philippe shouted to his chief Royal Guardsmen, "go get Violetta unchained, tell her to dress, and then escort her and the rest of my consorts into the royal carriage."

"Of course Your Highness," Mannstein nodded.

Mannstein hurried back to the inside of the tent, and then barked some orders at the squawking girls. Philippe mounted his horse just as an arrow took out the unfortunate Royal Guardsman handing him the reins. He looked in the direction the shot saw a whole formation of enemy archers firing from the east edge of camp into its center.

Philippe trotted the horse back into safer territory and found the royal carriage there with his consorts, all hastily dressed and shocked looking, ready to depart.

"There's not a minute to waste Captain," he told Mannstein. "We depart now."

Mannstein asked, "Should we not use the Royal Guard to help our comrades?"

"Forget it Captain, I know a lost battle when I see it," Philippe responded.

The royal carriage began speeding down the winding path from the hilltop to the unconquered southern half of camp while he followed with his Royal Guards. They left camp just in time, its southern half having been overrun by enemy troops just a few minutes after he'd left. He glanced back and spat on the ground.

"You may have won this time Phantom Miria, but I swear to god this won't be the end," he cursed aloud.


	8. Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulations

**Chapter 7: Trials and Tribulations**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**The city of Rabona's population peaked sometime around 200 B.L.E., when it was the capital of an empire of faith. Some 205,083 souls shared the city's confines, and the center of their faith was the 10-story high Teresian Cathedral. By the time the Organization's presence on the island of Toulouse was first recorded, the holy city's population had dropped nearly a quarter. After the War of Liberation, the full extent of Rabona's fall from grace was startling. Its population of 102,940 souls was roughly half of its peak. Whole sections of Rabona had fallen into disrepair and little use, and the city fell under the rule of an unfortunately unambitious Holy Council. Rabona's fall from grace seemed complete when at long last in 2 A.L.E. it came under siege...**

* * *

"The pontoon bridge isn't there anymore Cid," Tabitha informed him.

She was walking alongside him and his tired horse as they trudged along a modest forest trail.

It was already mid-day, and by the measures of success, Miria's gutsy, aggressive plan had succeeded so far. The assault on King Charles' army had started with two simultaneous attacks: one by the main infantry force on a hill-fort ten miles northwest of Rabona, and another by two companies of cavalrymen and the ten claymores of the Elite Guard on the northern hill-fort. Both had succeeded with minimal losses, although two members of the Elite Guard had fallen in the process, which had silenced any jubilation.

"I take it the bridge burned down after we crossed it?"

Tabitha sighed, walking alongside tired cavalrymen and a few claymores on a light-bespectacled forest path, "What did you expect Captain Malaga? They tried to sabotage their own pontoon bridge as soon as they saw us by putting it on fire. We were lucky enough that Miata managed to shoot a few of them before the bridge was impossible to cross," she commented.

"It would have been nice if they hadn't," Cid remarked, "now we have to risk going south towards Rabona on the wrong side of the Toulouse River."

"I just wish we didn't have to carry Alessandra's body while doing it," Tabitha said, regretful.

Tabitha continued wearily walking alongside him, much of her uniform and armor covered in blood and sword scratches.

"Why didn't you decide to bury Alessandra like Ursula?"

"Alessandra was a married woman with two adopted young boys," Tabitha snapped, "and Ursula was a single woman. What am I supposed to tell Emanuel if I didn't bring back his wife so he could say goodbye?"

"That she died fighting on the battlefield just like twenty of my men, and that we had to get back to Rabona as safely as possible," he bit back.

"No, absolutely not," Tabitha quietly snapped.

"Fine, but chances are high the horse carrying Alessandra's body might get captured if we run into the enemy's heavy cavalry...hey, I was talking to you!"

Tabitha had jogged off, not even bothering to respond.

"Well that was certainly not the very tactful of you to say," a bass female voice interrupted.

Cid turned to his right to find the silver-eyed Captain Matilda trotting up towards him, her armor and waist-length ponytail covered in fresh blood.

Cid asked in alarm, "What happened to you Captain Matilda?"

"I ran into an enemy cavalry picket one mile east of us," Matilda stated, "which means we've got to move now!"

"We're four miles from Rabona's eastern gate, and three of those will be over an open plain. How are we supposed to get the horses to get that far after what they just did?"

"We've got no choice," Matilda declared, her point emphasized by a distant horn to the east. "If we can get close to Rabona's walls we should be able to make it. I can feel Captain Virginia and Natalie waiting for us at the eastern gatehouse."

* * *

"This is amazing Natalie," Captain Virginia said.

Natalie asked, "What is?"

The silver-eyed captain merely smiled in response, her pauldrons shining in the morning sunlight.

"I was skeptical your adoptive mother could actually pull off this half-crazy night attack on the enemy army, but it appears she's just succeeded in the west at least," Virginia grinned, letting the hand telescope down.

"How do you know that?"

"Besides reading Yoki a good deal farther than you, there's a flag atop the far western hill you ought to see Natalie," Virginia explained, handing her the hand telescope.

"How am I supposed to see it, aren't we a little far? We're on the opposite side of Rabona from mother's battle, and there's the cathedral and Lord Mayor's Residence in the way," Natalie complained.

Virginia pointed west, across the sprawling city, which was in the midst of a remodeling and renovation boom due to a huge influx of new residents. Numerous cranes, platforms and workmen were in action, the cranes in particular making seeing something across the city difficult.

"The hill you're looking for is directly west of us, if you observe between the Teresian Cathedral and the Lord Mayor's Residence, and just over the walls, you'll see it," Virginia instructed her.

Natalie looked into the telescope, past a distractingly fat and horrifyingly shirtless worker on a crane, shifted her telescope left and settled between the twin-spired Teresian Cathedral, and the single-spired, much smaller Lord Mayor's Residence directly opposite it. Shifting the telescope once more, Natalie looked up, and far past the western walls to find a large hill.

"I see a hill, but not much else. Wouldn't it be easier to see all of this if we were at one of the western gatehouses instead of this eastern one?"

"Let me adjust that," the white-haired Virginia told her, flicking a dial on the telescope. "There, now look again."

The hill was easy to find, and after noticing a large number of small smoke plumes upon it, Natalie noticed a white flag atop it.

She turned to Virginia in jubilation, "She did it; she actually did it!"

In her excitement Natalie even hugged Virginia, who seemed to have difficulty returning it, even though she was dressed in navy-blue leather and pauldrons only.

"Natalie," Virginia sighed, smiling, pushing her back and looking down at her, "you should know I'm not the hugging type by now."

"I'm still going to hug you, besides, you're supposed to look happier. We won, didn't we?"

Virginia's face turned serious, "We haven't won yet Natalie, half the enemy army is still out there, and they outnumber your mother's troops better than 2:1."

Natalie asked, "But don't we have two thousand men still in Rabona?"

"We've got two thousand men to watch fourteen miles of fortified walls, which is barely adequate to defend the city," Virginia noted.

"Why exactly are we up on top of the eastern gatehouse with five hundred archers again?"

Virginia turned around, looking down from the top of the gatehouse, the plains a terrifying eight stories below them. To the right of them was another massive gatehouse tower, the gate far underneath and between the pinnacles of rock, and behind were two more massive towers as well. All of the towers descended to join the eastern gatehouse's massive six story keep.

"They're coming into view right now," Virginia sighed, pointing out at the plains to the northeast. "It looks like the cavalry and Elite Guard brought some company."

* * *

"Tabitha, I don't know if we're going to make it!"

The Elite Guard's captain glanced back at Cid while running in the midst of dozens of frantic Rabonese cavalrymen. It seemed as if she couldn't tell what he was saying; it wasn't hard to understand why, as the nearly two hundred horses around them were at a full gallop, their hooves pounding against the plains like thunder. The seven other claymores of the Elite Guard were nearby, and already Cid could tell all except for Miata and Tabitha were tiring. Behind them, only a few hundred yards away and steadily closing in, was a massive horde of enemy knights in full armor.

"Captain Malaga," a cavalryman shouted over to him from the right, "they're taking out bows!"

A look back was enough to confirm that several dozen of the nearest enemy knights were doing just that as they closed in to shooting range. More alarmingly, several of the claymores now were nearing range, as they were hanging back to escort the horse carrying the late Alessandra's body.

"Tabitha, do something!" He screamed out, pointing to the horse and four warriors.

Tabitha needed only a glance back to see the dire scene through the swirling dust. She suddenly slowed down, changed course to intercept the horse and warriors on foot, and then arrived with energy to spare. Tabitha shouted something at the warriors, all of whom began pulling away from the horse with what looked like a last-ditch sprint.

Tabitha in contrast ran alongside the horse for a moment, then in an astounding effort, jumped onto the horse and spurred it on. For a moment it seemed to be enough to keep the distance even between the horse and the mass of pursuing knights. Then the horse began wheezing as its speed began to drop under the weight of yet another body.

"Shit," Cid muttered as the nearest knights loosed a volley of a half-dozen arrows at Tabitha.

They all missed, but one came close, and he knew that it would be only a matter of time before they struck home. It took a mere glance towards the distant eastern gatehouse of Rabona to know Tabitha wouldn't make it.

"Men," Cid shouted to a squad of ten lagging cavalrymen further behind the main body of the cavalry force, "we've got a damsel in distress."

The men looked back to find Tabitha upon the horse twenty yards behind them and falling back at a steady rate.

"Fuck," one man shouted, "we've got to get Captain Tabitha off that horse!"

"Ready when you are Captain Malaga," another shouted.

Cid acknowledged them with a nod and then eased his galloping horse down in pace, with the ten cavalrymen following his example. One man pulled his horse in close, with Tabitha helping to move Alessandra's flailing dead body onto the cavalryman's horse. Abruptly Tabitha's horse faltered and slammed head first into the ground, sending Tabitha flying. Cid's cavalrymen pulled off to the side in time and sped up, but she had landed with cat-like fluidity.

"Tabitha, come on," Cid shouted, "you've got to run faster!"

It was a true statement, as the abrupt loss of Tabitha's horse had forced her to run on foot, and the landing robbed her of great momentum.

"Hell, Miria's going to kill me for doing this," he muttered, then slowed down the horse yet again as a dozen enemy knights closed to within thirty yards.

Tabitha made a herculean effort to catch up, and Cid kicked the horse back into a gallop just as she made a lunge to reach his outstretched hand. It was a tough, jarring catch, as Tabitha's slight weight still nearly toppled him from the saddle. The claymore managed to climb atop the horse and sit behind him, but squawked in pain only a few seconds later.

"What is it?"

"I'm hit in the left arm," Tabitha explained through gritted teeth. "We're not going to make it at this rate!"

A glance back was more than enough to confirm that their pursuers had only gotten more numerous and slightly closer. The gatehouse was still far away, a mile at least by his estimation, white flags flying gallantly from its four eight-story towers.

"So what, are you saying we should just give; hey, what are you doing?"

Tabitha abruptly turned around, grabbed the bow off her back, fitted an arrow from a quiver on her leg, and then took aim. The first shot sailed over the nearest pursuer to the far left. Cid glanced back to notice the closest of the hundred heavily-armored knights behind them switched positions away from the sides, where Tabitha might attempt a shot.

"Humph," she murmured in annoyance, "I guess we'll do things the scandalous way then."

Even though he was riding a horse at full gallop with a host of over a hundred knights pounding after him only a few dozen yards away, Tabitha's action shocked him. She whipped around him in the saddle, leaving her front flush against him.

"Don't get any funny ideas," the witch said while drawing another arrow to the bowstring.

The enemy knights shot pre-emptively, three arrows sailing over as Tabitha ducked and then loosed an arrow. A crashing sound came afterwards, and a glance confirmed she had taken out a horse and rider behind them. The glance was enough to guess the crash had taken several more knights and their horses by surprise, leaving a small hole in the enemy formation.

Abruptly something large and painful hit Cid in the lower left arm. A glance around the obstructing body of Tabitha found his lower left arm pinned to the galloping horse by an arrow. He didn't dare attempt to pull it out, although the horse's galloping movements made the pain feel excruciating.

Tabitha was continuing to shoot, but the horse was tiring and hurt by the arrow embedded in its shoulder. She ditched the bow as a half dozen knights charged towards them for the kill. A moment later, Tabitha had her enormous claymore unsheathed.

"Duck Cid!"

He ducked, pushing his body forward and down toward the horse. This had the effect of saving him from a flying axe as he flattened himself against the sensuous, leather-clad body of Tabitha.

"Don't duck that way," Tabitha screamed as two knights came swinging in with longswords from the left.

"I can't duck backwards, my arm is pinned to the goddamn horse!"

Tabitha took a mere glance at the hand and then nodded in understanding. This time she leaned back and to one side, brandishing the claymore. The two knights were about to connect killing blows with Cid's neck when Tabitha swung, cutting them down with a tremendous horizontal swing. The gatehouse was looming ever larger as the first of the Rabonese cavalrymen reached its open gate and galloped inside.

It looked like they were going to make it when the nearest knights decided not to hazard Tabitha's blade. Then all one hundred of them, their horses still running all out, took out bows and arrows. They were fitting the arrows to the bowstrings when...

* * *

"Virginia, isn't that Tabitha riding backwards in Cid's lap?"

Virginia, standing next to Natalie, gasped in surprise as they watched from the north-eastern gatehouse tower eight stories up. In the prior minute some lagging members of the cavalry had picked up the other tiring claymores who could no longer keep pace. Tabitha it seemed must have picked up an injury or had something happen to her to be riding backwards. Tabitha and Cid's horse was still hundreds of yards away from the gatehouse when two knights approached for the kill. Tabitha and Cid ducked under a flying object then suddenly the knights were gone, slashed in an instant by the silver-eyed captain.

"Never mind that Natalie! Sergeant Rommel," Virginia yelled at a nearby infantryman, "prepare to fire when they come into range.

The dust clouds kicked up by the Rabonese cavalrymen abruptly cleared to reveal an immense horde of enemy knights identified by their red-and-gold standards and scale-like lamellar armor on their horses.

"Are they going to make it Captain Virginia?"

Natalie's heart was racing watching the life-and-death situation unfold literally beneath her feet.

"We're certainly going to try to help them out," Virginia shouted as the din of massed horse hooves rumbled closer. "Sergeant Rommel," Captain Virginia shouted to her subordinate behind them, nearer the town's center, "Signal the archers to fire in fifteen seconds, and notify the 1st Spearmen Battalion to form up around the gate. We can't have any of those cavalrymen getting into the town with our own men."

"Yes Captain," the young, well-armored Sergeant confirmed before coordinating a series of colorful flag signals with other Rabonese soldiers.

Hundreds of archers clambered up around them or onto the walls surrounding the immense gatehouse, readying their bows and fitting arrows to strings in preparation. Most were wearing only simple chain-mail shirts and steel helmets, as were more alarmingly, she noticed, the spearmen rushing into view down below in Rabona's wall-side street.

"Virginia, those spearmen down there aren't very well equipped-"

Virginia turned on her, angry, "Now is not the time to be distracting me Natalie!"

"Sorry," she gulped, a plunging feeling going through her belly.

It was at this moment that it became impossible to ignore the hundred closest knights to Tabitha and Cid's horse were putting arrows to bowstrings and beginning to aim.

Virginia snapped at Sergeant Rommel, "Signal archers to open fire!"

Rommel frantically began sending colored command signal flags up a small flagpole as the Rabonese cavalrymen frantically galloped on. They were barely more than a few seconds ahead of the warlord army's cavalry when the first of their formation reached the gate. A large volley of arrows tore into the massive horde of dust-shrouded enemy knights, a number of horses shrieking in pain and men screaming out. Abruptly the enemy cavalry stopped just as the last of the Rabonese cavalrymen passed out of view below into the safety of the gatehouse. Cid and Tabitha's horse was last, wearily trotting the final few yards. A nearly lucky shot missed Cid's head just as they entered the gatehouse.

"Close the gate," Virginia shouted at a team of soldiers below, all of them suddenly turning a large wooden wheel, a huge set of chains dropping down from it. With a massive thud a few seconds later, they stopped just as the dust from the plains cleared, revealing only a half dozen men and horses dead upon the plains. The rest had retreated, now safe from archer fire.

"Damn," white-haired Virginia said, looking out at the large number of enemy cavalrymen, "there's got to be a thousand of them."

Natalie noticed Virginia's shoulders slumping as they looked out at the massive formation of cavalry, some of whom were carrying triangular flags emblazoned with a golden crown against a crimson background.

"I don't know if I want to think about how Miria's troops will fare facing that many heavy cavalrymen," Virginia sighed.

"Shouldn't we be going down to see them Captain?"

"If you say so Natalie," Virginia sighed, looking immensely relieved.

It took a long time, even moving at a good pace, to clamber all the way down the narrow, winding stone staircases to the ground. Natalie emerged just behind Virginia to find around two hundred exhausted men alongside equally spent horses and a few claymores. They were gathered in a small, packed square near the gatehouse.

A glance to either side found a large ring road bordering the city's four story fortified wall branching off from the eastern square. Straight west was the immense Orthodox Boulevard, which was lined with blockhouses brimming with colorful, quaint signs. The wide street was divided in two by an elevated garden rimmed in red bricks and filled with colorful flowers and the regularly spaced oak tree.

A man in a simple white and brown tunic with trousers rushed over to the dismounting cavalrymen shouting, "Julia, where are you dear?"

"Over here Thierry," the elven-eared Julia shouted back.

Natalie watched alongside Virginia as the petite Julia, who'd obviously shed some weight in the last few months, dismounted and jumped into her much larger, older, and dark-haired husband's calloused hands.

"Umm, Captain Virginia," Natalie whispered while watching Julia and her husband passionately embrace, "I thought Julia was my age, so how's she married?"

"She is your age Natalie, and don't stare," Virginia whispered warningly back.

"But mom said you couldn't get married at age fourteen."

Virginia whispered back, "Your mom was being protective, so she lied."

"Oh."

Julia was being spun around, held up in the air by her husband Thierry, who was graying.

"How old is he?"

"Quit staring Natalie," Virginia warned, whispering at her, "It was Julia's choice to marry a 40-year widow with a five-year-old son. Just don't ever bring up Thierry's age in conversation or Julia's son Henry; she'll never shut up if you do."

Natalie looked away from Thierry and Julia to find Cid clutching his left arm walking up to Virginia and herself.

"There's my future daughter-in-law," Cid exclaimed in a jolly mood, playfully rubbing the top of her head with a closed hand.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh dear, did Miria not tell you yet Natalie?"

She wasn't given time to answer Cid, because nearby a pair of soldiers were lowering Alessandra's body into an open wooden casket. A young, red-haired man dressed in fine clothes was rushing towards the crowd of soldiers, looking frantically for someone.

"Alessandra, dear, where are you? It's your husband Emanuel, now come on my darling, it's no time for hide-and-seek," Emanuel shouted.

Tabitha came forward to Emanuel with a lowered head, and he exclaimed, "No, no, no, she has to be alive; she said she'd be back!"

"I'm sorry Emanuel," Tabitha apologized. "She fought and died valiantly in battle."

Emanuel let out a gut-wrenching scream as he saw the open casket just over Tabitha's shoulder.

* * *

Tabitha was standing alongside Virginia on the ground floor of Rabona's old tower, which for roughly the last half year had been the residence of some thirty-five claymores. All around them hung portraits of the various resident claymores, each illuminated by a pair of wall-mounted candles. The two claymores were standing in the center of the old tower's first floor hallway, not far from the thick, impervious steel front door being guarded by two silent spearmen.

"Captain Virginia," Tabitha saluted, looking at her with sad eyes that threatened to moisten over.

"How many did you lose?"

Virginia asked Tabitha delicately, as Tabitha was doing her best to not lose composure.

"Ursula and Alessandra, but the girls are taking it hard," Tabitha nearly cried, wiping her eyes.

"To be frank, you look a fright," Virginia noted.

"Oh you think so Virginia?"

Tabitha looked at her own blood-splattered, dust-covered, cut-up navy-blue leather uniform.

"I guess you're right," she agreed.

"Why don't you and the rest of the Elite Guard get washed up in the baths?"

Tabitha, looking tired, sad and weary, merely nodded, then asked, "Won't that be a bit much for Natalie to prepare, Virginia?"

"Natalie's not preparing it; we hired a bunch of out-of-work local girls yesterday. I have them doing the laundry, cooking, cleaning and even making new combat outfits," Virginia explained to a surprised Tabitha.

"How are we paying for that? Are their salaries coming out of all the silver-eyed s' pay?"

"Of course not; Miria agreed to take it out of her pay," Virginia replied, smiling.

"Ah of course," Tabitha murmured in tones of great approval, "Well, it is very like Miria's generosity, but isn't that very expensive?"

"Don't worry about the expense. Miria makes 5000 Francs a year as a Major General, so she can afford to hire about 100 maid-servants a year. It's really an obscene amount of money and-"

Tabitha angrily interjected, "That is not an obscene amount of money! An obscene amount of money is the 40,000 Francs each member of the Council of Lords earned for doing absolutely nothing."

"Look, this isn't about the Council of Lords Tabitha-"

"Are you kidding Virginia," Tabitha cut her off, "How can it not be? Do you know how much money Miria got for saving the lives of six other warriors from certain death? None! You know how much they paid and recognized us for saving Rabona from an Awakened Being?"

"Tabitha, look, I understand you're a little hot under the collar from losing two of your girls-"

"Two of MY GIRLS?"

It had come out of the older warrior like a scream of primal rage.

"Look, I'm sorry Tabitha, I meant we lost Alessandra and Ursula," Virginia apologized.

"I'll accept the apology," Tabitha said in tones that implied it was difficult to do so. "But remember this Virginia: there are just over thirty of us still alive, and we're not getting any more numerous."

"I'm aware of that Tabitha, but-"

"Virginia," Tabitha said while putting a hand on her right shoulder, "when we rescued Rabona from an awakened being, the city paid us in free lodging and food. Can you believe that? They didn't even pay any of us real money!"

"You're not usually this talkative Tabitha."

"No, but I will be when I feel Miria and the rest of us aren't getting our due. She led the overthrow of the Organization, and you know what the church gave her? Not a damn thing, because they didn't care about a damn thing outside the city walls. They then banned us from any military profession because they feared we'd put our competitors out of business. Just watch, when we're all done with this, after two of my girls sacrificed their lives for this city, they'll screw us over."

"Captain Tabitha," Virginia began a little formally, "the Lords kept their promises so far-"

"But you cannot trust them," Captain Tabitha interjected.

"May I ask why not?"

Tabitha replied, "They're human."

Virginia arched her eyebrows at Tabitha in disbelief, "You're human!"

"Really, and since when did anyone treat us like humans? Did your yoki feel human to you when you got up this morning Virginia?"

"Well..."

"I cannot believe you don't feel we deserve a say in how this island is ruled," Tabitha sighed. "You always go on about equality, but what's the point of equality if we're superior to humans?"

"Are you claiming that Miria doesn't care about humans or people being treated equally?"

"I know where this is going Virginia. You're going to say that all I do is repeat everything Miria says and agree with her, aren't you?"

"Well, you're not known for your independent opinion Captain Tabitha," Virginia admitted.

"I agree with Miria because she is a selfless and heroic person, because she's a great leader, and because she she's just destroyed half of an army that outnumbered ours five to one with minimal casualties. I may not always have the same opinion as Miria, but I owe Miria a debt I can never repay, and I will back whatever she decides for the rest of my life," Tabitha stated in dramatic fashion.

"So what happens when 'Saint Miria' accepts another couple of promotions and starts earning a queen-like 20,000 Francs a year? How's she supposed to set a good example while earning hundreds of times what one of our privates does?"

"I never thought of that," Tabitha sighed in a dreamy state.

"Thought of what?"

Virginia was bewildered by Tabitha's suddenly quiet and trance-like state, but the elder witch snapped out of it with a smile.

"Miria would make a great queen," Tabitha sighed, happy. "She's got the perfect regal stature of a queen, and it's not like she doesn't deserve to rule after all her accomplishments."

Virginia scoffed, "There's no way Miria would accept such a position."

"What would you know of that Captain?" Tabitha smirked, "After years of watching incompetent humans screw up governing OUR island, you still think Miria has confidence in them?"

"Tabitha, you'd best keep that to yourself, you should remember we've sworn oaths to the Council of Lords-"

"Just as we did to the Rabona Orthodox Church," Tabitha interjected in a low voice, her thoughts turning dangerous. "You have to admit-if Miria were queen, this island would be way better off than it is now. As the general says, 'everything goes to hell' without her around."

"We are not having this conversation Tabitha;" Virginia whispered back, "Miria overthrew the church's military rule only because the choice of leaving everyone to starve and surrender to King Charles was unacceptable. Go take your bath; I'm not talking about this subject anymore."

"Suit yourself," Tabitha smiled dangerously, then walked off down the hall, openly sighing, "Queen Miria, now wouldn't that be great?"

When Miria's faithful follower walked out of sight, Virginia turned to the two silent if anxious looking spearmen, "I apologize you had to hear that soldiers. Captain Tabitha is merely an admirer of the Major General. I assure you it's nothing to take seriously."

"Of course Captain Virginia," the spearmen acknowledged together, and then went silent.

Another claymore, this time with perfectly coiffed blond hair and a curvaceous, petite frame walked up in navy-blue leather wearing her sword, then saluted.

"What is it Camilla?"

Camilla looked annoyed, "The prisoner is requesting to speak with you, otherwise she plans to go on a hunger strike, as if that's going to do anything for her," Camilla commented with derision.

"So she wants to see me then?"

"Yes, and being a huge pain in the ass about it too," Camilla said, sounding aggravated.

"Fine, so lead me to her then Lieutenant Camilla," Virginia ordered.

Camilla wheeled and turned, and together they walked to near the stairwell, headed down a flight of stone stairs carpeted in plush, regal red to the basement floor. They ended in a large chamber, where ten spearmen were standing guard around a large steel door. The anteroom was lit only by dozens of wall-mounted candles, and had a dark, dank feel to it.

"Open the vault," Virginia ordered as Camilla stood at her side.

The guards hustled to their work, inserting some five keys, and then twisted. With five successive clicks, the locks inside the wide steel vault door disengaged. One soldier spun the vault door's handle, and the door opened to reveal a room stocked with statuettes, statues, ornate furniture, even a harp, all of it lit by several large golden chandeliers full of candles. At the far wall, with her arms handcuffed behind her head and tied to a large brick column, was a long blond-haired nun.

The nun stood up as soon as they crossed the precipice, a zigzagging scar running across her otherwise beautiful white face, her eyes opened to reveal pure-white pupils.

"Is this any way to treat a woman of God?" Galatea thundered. "I demand to be released this instant-"

"You're in no position to demand anything," Camilla snapped, interrupting Galatea.

"Captain Virginia, please, you must see sense," Galatea pleaded, evidently recognizing her yoki. "In the first night Major General Miria was freed of church command, she managed to annihilate half the enemy army," Virginia countered, at which Galatea fell silent. "But I'm sure you know this already, don't you 'God-Eye' Galatea?"

"I must insist I be freed, the children will be worrying where I have gone to," Galatea demanded, then rationalized.

"You assaulted the commanding officer of the entire army," Camilla snapped, walking closer, "Your Holy Council forced Miria to support the Council of Lords because it believed that somehow us all dying of starvation and being conquered by King Charles was god's will. Well guess what sister, if there's a god in this world, he's not on your side," the silver-eyed lieutenant provocatively declared.

Galatea rushed forward, cheeks flushed with blood, "I was protecting the futures of my poor orphans, and now that the Council of Lords is in power, you might have as well killed them. As for your blasphemy, I demand you stop this instant or I will make you," Galatea threatened.

"Alright you two," Virginia interrupted Camilla and Galatea with her sword drawn. "That's enough. You might have been able to defeat both of us were you still armed Galatea, but you're not. Don't provoke our prisoner, Camilla."

"Of course cousin," Virginia's subordinate said meekly, walking backwards a little.

"So then Galatea, I'm here, are you going to make a plea bargain or waste my time?"

"You just don't understand me, do you?" Galatea sighed. "I am not looking for forgiveness for attempting to relieve the officer who betrayed God's church for a bunch of wealthy, corrupt men. You might believe the church pointless, but I believe you're only hearing what you want to. It is the Rabona Orthodox Church that accepts those who cannot find work into the clergy, the church that provides medical care for the sick and injured, gives charitably to the poor, kept the people safe-"

"I'm going to stop you there Galatea," Virginia interjected, "the church may have done many worthy things, but if you and the Holy Council refuse to act to save god's followers, what is the point?"

"We could have negotiated a surrender that would have maintained the church's influence, converted King Charles and his men to the true faith, and unified the island without bloodshed. Instead Miria took the easy, violent way out," Galatea rationalized.

"You have far too much confidence in the persuasions of faith," Camilla commented.

"And you have far too much faith in a bunch of callous, rich aristocrats who will abandon the poor, flood the streets with the homeless, the ill, and the unfortunate, and-"

"If they were that bad, do you think Miria would have gone along with the coup?"

"Have you ever wondered about Miria's motives?"

"The general may like being in command, but she only condoned the coup because the church wouldn't act," Virginia countered.

"That's a nice story," Galatea responded, "but hiding behind altruism doesn't make one just."

"I could say the same thing to you Galatea," Virginia sniffed.

Galatea continued, "You just watch Miria, Virginia, and you'll notice that for all that altruism she never fails to accept more power. What's next, is the general going to overthrow the Council of Lords and declaring herself an absolute monarch? I wonder, how much of a bribe did it take for those godless merchants to get Miria to help them then? Was it for the position of Major General, or the 5000 Francs that came with it that she betrayed the church like a whore?"

Camilla's response was to backhand Galatea, then shout, "Don't you ever talk about Miria being a whore you pompous, vain, arrogant bitch! You know what choices your lovely church made me have after the War of Liberation? They banned all claymores from being private guards they thought we'd put the human guards out of business. Since we didn't have many career choices, some of the girls got so desperate they turned to prostitution. Your church said how grateful they were for our efforts, but actually the church betrayed us just like you have."

"I have betrayed no one, I merely have a new family, one which embraces God and..."

Galatea trailed off when Natalie, bearing a sealed message, rushed in, then saluted.

"Captain Virginia," Natalie addressed her.

"Yes, what's the message Natalie?"

Miria's adoptive daughter handed Virginia the message while Camilla and Galatea both leaned in to hear.

Virginia read aloud, "The Holy Council wishes Sister Galatea the best during her incarceration; however, due to the unprovoked and unapproved attack on General Miria, we feel it is only appropriate to ban the Sister from all participation in the Holy Council. Furthermore, after a 3-2 vote of the new Holy Council, we've created a new Inquisitorial Bureau under Father Mazarin."

Galatea had gone totally silent, her lips pursed.

"Some family," Camilla mocked.

* * *

_The image was hazy in Miria's mind, but the emotions it stirred were not. There was a teenage girl with flowing brown hair in an ornate green and red dress towering over her. It was an image of her beautiful older sister, Victoire de Beauharnais, the haughty, darling beauty of the family. _

_ "Get out of my way you tweed," Victoire said, knocking her down in a wood-floored home. _

_ "You're a stupid bitch," Miria yelled. _

_ "Well you're a midget pain-in-the-ass Miria," Victoire bit back. _

_ "I hope you die," she shouted back at Victoire, which seemed to shock her elder sister. _

_ "You can't mean that Miria," Victoire almost pleaded. _

_ "All you care about are your looks and potential husbands, Victoire," she shot back. "The world would be better off without people as shallow as you!" _

_ Victoire left from the house into mist outside and disappeared, and suddenly the scene changed to that of a classroom filled with orthodox schoolgirls. A nun appeared before them as if out of thin air, yet none of the other girls reacted, each looking ahead with a blank stare. _

_ "Class is finished for today girls, you may go home now," the nun announced. _

_ Miria's body seemed to move on its own, as the classroom, girls and nun disappeared into the mist. She was walking into an impenetrable fog now, the only thing visible through it a distant light. She walked towards the light, and further ahead a series of screams rang out. Miria ran on ahead for a long time through the cold fog until she was suddenly before a large crowd gathered around a familiar three-story home. _

_ Miria weaved her way through the crowd, blessed by the small size and agility of a ten-year-old girl's body. _

_ "They're all dead," a woman shrieked just as she reached the crowd's edge. "They've all been killed by a Yoma!" _

_ Miria stumbled out of the crowd and onto a body. She let out a reflexive scream as she found her mother's anguished face, eyes open in fear, staring blankly back at her. Her mother's belly had a large, bloody hole in it. She backpedaled at the sight into the front of the crowd, and found other familiar bodies in sight. Her brother Nicolas was laying dead on his belly far to the right, her father was lying slumped against the house. _

_ Miria rushed to her father's side, but once again it was too late. His innards were missing, a pool of dried blood surrounding a broken sword he might have attempted to use in self-defense. She ran frantically past, tears streaming as she screamed, "Please, somebody's got to be alive!" _

_ The house answered in silence, and she ran from room to room, finding nothing other than dead family members. There was one final hope, and she raced towards it and up two flights of stairs to the third story. Miria opened the creaking door furthest down the hall to find Victoire kneeling in a pool of blood. Victoire's belly had been pierced, but not totally. _

_ "You came," Victoire breathed before hacking up blood and falling. _

_ She just barely caught Victoire's head before it hit the wooden floor. _

_ "Miria," Victoire whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. _

_ "I'm here," she told Victoire. _

_ Her elder sister didn't move or even blink for several seconds until Miria realized Victoire was dead. Suddenly the scene disappeared and she snapped back to reality. _

Miria opened her eyes, gasping, to find herself surrounded by troops and claymores and dressed in resplendent armor. It had all been a terrible daydream. A glance around confirmed what she already knew: the Rabonese Army was encamped around a substantial creek, the bank of which posed issues in traversing, but was so shallow it could be crossed easily on foot. Hundreds of white tents were pitched to either side, while she was standing on the southern side, not far from the large command tent.

To the side of the southern side of the camp was a spectacular cliff-face that extended well past the gorge's entrance, several small but spectacular waterfalls tumbling down its face. On the northern side was a steep, forested hill, although there was a less severe slope in portions, perhaps enough to allow a small army through. Behind them, to the west, were the rolling hills of western Toulouse, and to the east, were the flat plains surrounding Rabona.

Miria noticed Helen and Renee nearby, seemingly oblivious to her presence talking about something. She leaned in behind a nearby tent to eavesdrop out of curiosity.

Renee asked Helen with a serious voice, "What do they call this place?"

"The Kerouac Gorge," Helen replied, "otherwise known as the place where we're going to kick King Charles' ass."

"That's great Helen, but aren't you being a little presumptuous?"

Helen seemed annoyed at Renee's doubt when she bit back, "Well look at you Commander Defeatist, I hardly recognized you!"

"Drop the sarcasm Helen," Renee's voice warned, easily heard through the tent Miria was eavesdropping behind. "We are going to be fighting for our survival, and I know not all of us are coming back. We can't save everyone."

"I'm aware," Helen sighed in a knowing way, "that some of us won't be here tomorrow evening, Renee. Look, can we just get through the evening without having anything we regret saying tomorrow? I'm still not over calling Deneve a "stupid git" the night before she died when I got drunk. God, it seems like every time I talk to you we always discuss the most depressing things. Can't you talk as if we're going to win?"

Sometime during Helen's rant Miria began feeling her eyes tearing over, as her own thoughts turned with regret to the last words she'd ever said to her big sister Victoire.

Renee sniffed at Helen's words as she listened in, "Well, it's just that the army is still recovering from all the recent fighting and I tend to worry too much."

"You're actually admitting you worry too much?"

"Yes I am, and quit laughing," Renee butted back as Helen started choking up.

Helen's laughter subsided a few seconds later, although judging by Renee's yoki it had rankled.

"Ah well," Helen shrugged. "I kind of wonder if King Charles is as bright as Miria makes him out to be. Do you really think he'll figure out this gorge is a death trap?"

"He doesn't have a choice even if he's aware of that fact," Renee declared.

"Why not?"

Renee seemed aggrieved at Helen's questioning, "Because we've cut off his supply lines, and he's got us to his west and Rabona to the east! He can't attack the holy city without us attacking him, and he can't retreat without us being able to build up an army bigger than his. If King Charles wants to rule the whole island, he's got one choice: kill us all now and hope he has enough troops left to conquer Rabona," Renee explained.

"God, just what I needed, more of your lecturing," Helen sniffed in amusement, "there's only one way to kill time like this: Claymore Poker!"

Renee mouthed the words in audible disbelief, "Claymore Poker?"

"Trust me, once you've tried it, you'll never play another card game again," Helen assured.

The twoclaymores walked off as Miria sighed.

"You're too hard on yourself general," a female voice interjected.

Miria turned to find the petite, voluptuous, curly haired Nadia looking at her.

"Bonjour Commander," Miria said.

Nadia smiled underneath a large, white-plumed steel helmet.

"Are you sure you wouldn't want someone to talk to about your regrets?"

Her silver-eyed subordinate asked, sounding very sure of the prognosis.

"Now why would you say I'm troubled by regrets Nadia?"

"Because we all are: you, me, Helen, Renee, all the warriors I know. We all seem to live in the past. My husband Raul always comments that I'm trying so hard to make up for the past that I've trapped myself," Nadia explained.

"You've trapped yourself?"

"Oh yes, I thought he was being his usual eccentric self the way husbands can be, no offense to your betrothed Cid," Nadia added. "But in the end I realized Raul was right. You see general, when I was the mayor of Pieta, I worked obsessively into the night. Raul got so upset that he demanded to know why he wasn't more important to me. At the time my only thoughts were that if I didn't work like a maniac, I'd be letting 'her' down. It had never occurred to me to worry more about my husband in the present than someone from my past."

"Her?"

"My twin sister, Francesca," Nadia explained. "Our parents were both killed, so Francesca and I were drafted into the Organization's ranks of warriors. We were not the strongest of warriors, and I never will be. Francesca always berated me to train harder because I was lazy. I came to regret my laziness later when we had our graduation 'ceremony'. You know the type where they use live Yomas to test if you're ready for fighting in the field?"

"Francesca never made it past the graduation ceremony, did she?"

Commander Nadia's eyes were filling with tears, "I promised myself I wouldn't cry about it, and look at me," she cried before managing a tearful smile. "I was so weak back then, but afterwards I promised myself I'd do everything I could to live up to Francesca's expectations."

Miria felt her own eyes moisten in sympathy, "I once hated my older sister Victoire. Told her that I thought the world would have been better off without her, and that very evening a Yoma attacked our house before I came back from school. She died in my arms before I could even say goodbye… before I could apologize to her. I've never actually told anyone about this before."

"You see general; you see how we're trapped by our regrets?" Nadia wiped away a tear, continuing, "I promised Raul that the people I loved in the present would always be just as important as those from my past. Can you promise Natalie and Cid that?"

"I...I don't know Nadia, I have so many. I regret not being able to save more of my warriors at Pieta. I regret seeing all of my captains' die and not being the one to kill the Awakened who murdered them. I regret so much, and I don't think I'll ever be able to forget all the lives that were lost by those who followed me," she sadly explained to Nadia.

"You'll never be able to forget the past, but for Natalie's sake, try to forgive yourself just a little. She keeps telling me you almost never smile. Take my advice Miria, you can't save everyone, so don't blame yourself for the actions of others. You weren't the one killing those girls, and you know that."

Nadia walked away, turned around, then shouted, "And try to have some fun for once general!"

Miria smiled for the briefest of moments at Nadia's words, but like the wind, it was gone as quickly as it came. Having fun was never really something that she'd done for its own sake. Bedding Cid had always been enjoyable, as was sparring with her comrades, but she'd never been one to indulge herself in games as Helen did.

Miria took to wandering the camp, several soldiers acknowledging her with sudden salutes as their commanding officer walked past. Numerous campfires were burning now, and on the side of a fire she noticed a dozen claymores playing cards in a semi-circle. One claymore, Valencia, judging by her large, messy hair-bun, was playing as the game's dealer, her back facing the fire.

As Miria walked up, Valencia and the girls stood up to salute, "Evening General Miria," Valencia acknowledged.

"What are you playing?"

Valencia smiled, "Claymore Poker, it's a game Helen invented six months ago to pass the time. Can we go back to playing general?"

"Of course, I'll just watch a moment," Miria replied.

Valencia and the other girls sat down, at which point Valencia spoke, "Alright girls, the pot is up to 500 Francs, let's see your cards."

"Alexandra," Valencia pointed to a claymore with twin pigtails nearly waist-long.

Alexandra, rightmost of the semi-circle to Valencia, turned over her four cards to reveal a pair of #2s, a black spade #2, Miata, and a red club #2, Sophia. These were complemented by a red club Jack labeled Orsay, who appeared to be a handler, and a black spade #5, Renee.

"High hand is pair of #2s. Remember girls, numbers are reversed from regular poker, twos are highest after Jacks and card worth is the inverse of the number," Valencia reminded everyone.

Another claymore girl with hair like that of the late #9, Jean, put her four cards forward, "Just a pair of #4s," the claymore complained, showing a black spade #4, Helen and a red club #4, Elda.

"At least you didn't bet a lot Richetta," pig-tailed Alexandra pointed out.

The girls continued showing their hands, none of which was higher than Alexandra's until reaching short, curly-haired Nadia, who revealed a pair of Queens, a black spade Queen Claire, and a red club Queen Irene.

"Looks like those 500 Francs are going to be mine," Nadia predicted.

Renee's hand a moment later robbed Nadia of her joy, as Renee revealed three Kings, a red club King Raki, a red spade King Rigardo, and a black club King Rafaela. Renee smirked as she put her hand down, but didn't give in to boasting.

Helen, the last to play her hand, shouted out loud, "Look at this hand and weep bitches!"

The 'tomboy' claymore had triple aces, a black club ace, Miria, then a red club ace, Teresa, and finally a red spade ace, Isley.

"Goddammit," Renee cursed, "why the hell do you have to always win Helen? You've won the last four in a row, so I vote the rest of us get to play without you now," a proposition which enjoyed unanimous support from everyone but Helen.

In spite of herself, Miria found a grin creeping up onto her face as she watched the comical, sisterly interaction between Renee and Helen. Only the comic part about it was that the 'older sister', Helen, was by far the more wild, humorous, and less disciplined of the two.

"Ah come on, I'll give you a chance to win back your previous bets," Helen enticed them.

"I'm not interesting in losing another 100 Francs on top of the 400 Francs I already have," Renee shot back.

General Miria was beginning to enjoy watching the card game, feeling almost as if she were amongst family once more. It took outside intervention to snap her mind back to more serious matters for once. As she watched the game a male aide dressed in armor approached her, whispering in her ear, "General Miria, Captain Malaga is back from the reconnaissance of the front."

Miria walked away from the game as Helen boasted, "Ah well, you guys are just jealous I won a thousand Francs off you in four games!"

Miria just managed to stifle a laugh at Helen's antics. It was a quick walk to her command tent atop a gentle hill overlooking the army's encampment. The tent was surrounded by a dozen fully armored swordsmen from Nadia's battalion, all of whom quickly saluted as Miria walked by and through the opened flap of the tent. It took a few seconds, but her eyes quickly adjusted to find a small fire in the tent's center, a hole above letting in fresh air and out the smoke.

"Evening Miria," Cid said, sitting in a small, folding chair in a simple white tunic, a short sword attached to his belt. He was warming his brown boots and loose red pants near the fire when he sighed.

"What's the matter?"

Miria settled down opposite him in her own chair in the dark tent.

"Well, a number of things since I got here from Rabona yesterday with the cavalry and Tabitha's unit. The big thing is that army King Charles has gathered straight east of here. He's got a thousand knights, cavalrymen so heavily armored even the horses are covered in armor. There's no way the swordsmen will be able to hold those monsters," Cid explained. "Our arrows aren't very effective against armor that thick, which Yuma's archers found out earlier today."

"It's not like you to worry dear," she told Cid, who stared into her eyes for once.

"But it's one thing to predict victory Miria; it's another to beat King Charles' army. He's got a thousand archers, a thousand pikemen, a thousand axmen, and a thousand swordsmen, all of them heavily armored. It'd be a miracle if our archers can do more than minimal damage against them. We lucked out before; those must have been his second-rate troops we hit."

Miria walked over and sat down in Cid's lap suggestively.

"I'm really not in the mood Miria," he protested as she kissed him on the neck.

"You always say that when you're stressed, but you always feel better afterwards," Miria pointed out as she took off her helmet, kissing him lightly on the lips while working his boots off.

"Come on, why don't we have a little fun, just the two of us for once, hmm?"

He began to give in to her insistence as she took off her armor. Cid's resistance melted once she was dressed only in her tight, form-fitting navy-blue leather. He grabbed her and carried her back to the simple, cushioned mattress on the ground that was her bed.

Cid paused a moment to ask, "Miria, are we getting married only because you love me or because you like me and want to adopt Natalie?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Miria said, brushing his concerns aside somewhat untruthfully.

She unzipped the back of her uniform to reveal a belly-concealing red silk corset. The uniform portion covering her chest slipped off to reveal her voluptuous chest, her nipples erect and hard in lust-filled anticipation.

"Go on Cid, try to resist this" Miria enticed him, which resulted in Cid faintly smiling as he pulled down her skirt.

What came next was a foregone conclusion.

* * *

_Miria__ awoke to find herself in a land of mist, seemingly stretching without end. _

_ She was walking through a dark, unnatural mist in her finest armor, but finding no one. _

_ Abruptly there was a light, but as Miria raced towards it the light vanished. _

_ "Wait!" _

_ It was a futile gesture, but a moment later the light came again, and in spite of experience she ran towards it. This time it did not vanish. Miria found a lantern hanging from a black post far overhead, out of reach. Its light began to die when another just barely visible through the mists appeared. She raced towards it as fast as she could. _

_ Miria arrived to find a hanging lantern just like before, only it felt like there was grass underfoot. She took a step forward when her foot squished something gooey and writhing. Miria looked down to find her armored foot squishing a mass of lively, disgusting maggots. She jumped backwards and nearly hurled when she saw what the maggots were upon. _

_ A decomposing body, bloated, riddled with arrows, clothed in navy-blue leather, and sprawled upon bluegrass arrested her eye. She'd stepped not onto the body but into its chest, from which was emerging a horde of maggots. Miria ran away from the scene in fright, into the safety of the mists. She stopped once her chest was heaving from effort and glanced back. The lights were all gone, replaced by nothing but endless, rolling mists. _

_ "What's going on?" _

_ It was a question shouted in all directions, and yet no echo came. The mists seemed to stretch without end, whichever way she looked. _

_ "You've delayed far too long," a familiar voice faintly announced from far overhead. _

_ "Delayed what?" _

_ No answer was forthcoming, so Miria began running in the direction she'd heard the voice. She stopped after several minutes, finding no one and nothing. _

_ "Where am I?" _

_ "Poor Miria," a female voice mocked, "You cannot run from what is coming." _

_ "Victoire?" _

_ A figure emerged from the mists walking towards her; a claymore with short and almost spiky blond hair, her face with a sharp, pointed nose, large silver eyes, her body clad in the gray and silver uniform of a loyal Organization warrior. _

_ "Hilda?" _

_ "You've had two and a half long years to conquer this island..."_

_ Hilda vanished as soon as she finished speaking, and Miria raced towards where the warrior's form had been to find nothing. _

_ "Why haven't you done more?" _

_ Miria turned around to find a claymore with short, boy-like hair clutching two claymores and dressed in skintight black leather. _

_ "Deneve?" _

_ Deneve vanished just like Hilda had before. _

_ "No, please wait! Give me more time!" _

"_More time! Listen to her Orsay, Miria says she wants more time," another voice mocked. _

_ This time Miria felt her heart chill as recognition came. She turned to find a well-endowed Organization warrior with a sadistic smirk, white-blond hair pulled tight into a braided ponytail, a claymore drawn in the warrior's right hand. The warrior advanced towards her, and Miria snatched at where she usually put her claymore but found none. _

_ "Ah, look at that," the familiar Ophelia laughed. "The queen can't find her blade." _

_ "What do you want Ophelia?" _

_ "Poor little Miria, panicking like a rookie already," Ophelia sneered. "I wouldn't be here if you hadn't kept on walking away from your destiny, always delaying the inevitable!" _

_ She began back pedaling now, searching for a weapon or shield to use against her opponent. Abruptly Ophelia charged, swinging the claymore sideways in a vicious horizontal swing right at her. Miria ducked underneath the swing, catching her attacker on the leg with a foot, which knocked Ophelia onto her back. It was just enough respite to get away from Ophelia's second swing. _

_ "My, my, even disarmed you still pack a fight," Miria's archenemy complimented. "But why do you insist on fighting me?"_

_ "Because you're attacking me!" _

_ Ophelia began to laugh maniacally. _

_ "You poor little girl, you still don't understand do you?"_

_ "Understand what?"_

_ Ophelia's form abruptly vanished into the mists and Miria was once again alone. _

_ A pair of hands suddenly grabbed her body, holding her still with incredible force. _

_ "I expected so much more of a girl who likes to lead," Ophelia sadistically purred into her left ear. "But I never expected you to actually fight your own destiny." _

_ As abruptly as the hands had pinned her, Ophelia's hands disappeared, leaving her gasping for breath in a sea of endless mist. _

_ "What destiny?" _

_ "Why my dear," a very familiar looking claymore said, appearing out of thin air, "your destiny to unite this island into a single land." _

_ "You...you're me." _

_ Her other self was dressed exactly the same as Miria was in her general's armor, and surprisingly this visage smiled at her in a devious manner. _

_ "What's the matter Miria, have you never seen how glorious you look in this?" _

_ This Miria was wearing a steel helmet with gilded wing motifs on its front, a red crest of horse hairs atop the helm, its edges gilded in gold. Her visage wore gold-gilded pauldrons, gold-gilded steel greaves and gauntlets, an imposing white leather-covered chainmail held tight around the waist by a black-and-gold embroidered belt. Underneath this her mirror image wore navy-blue leather, which covered everything else below her neck skin-tight. _

_ "I do like the power that comes with the new position you've given us, but it's just not enough. I've got all those stupid humans in my way, bossing me around. No witch should ever have to take orders from such inferior beings," her other self declared, wallowing in haughtiness. _

_ "No, I don't believe that at all!" _

_ "A part of you does, or you'd never have seen me. I'm nothing more than a reflection of you, so why don't you just kill this old fool and become the person this island has needed?" _

_ Her visage pointed to a familiar man with a thick, graying beard. _

_ "That's not King Charles, that's Lord Mayor Zaehringen of Rabona," Miria objected. _

_ "What's so wrong about killing him?" _

_ Her evil self circled the unresponsive Zaehringen, gleefully holding a claymore to his throat. _

_ "You blackmailed the church into making you the Holy Guard's commander, and then you overthrew them when they became inconvenient. You never let circumstances stop your rise to power before, so why now?" _

_ Her evil self stopped circling Zaehringen and began circling her, smirking at her discomfort. _

_ "Because I'm a moral person who had to do what was necessary," Miria answered. _

_ "You're so type-cast it's almost comical," her evil self laughed, still circling. "Miria the incorruptible, Miria the untouchable…Miria the fool! Do not for one instant suppose this man is your friend Miria." _

_ Zaehringen's lips began moving, and abruptly they were transported into a room that looked out onto what appeared to be Rabona's main square, the cathedral visible through the wall of arched windows at one end of the ornate room. _

_ "I don't like it all Ruud," Lord Mayor Zaehringen said, speaking to the familiar Lord Ruud van Willems. "I don't like my troops taking orders from that bitch. Once we're rid of King Charles, we'll make our move against Miria and her little pack of she-devils." _

_ "He's said this?" _

_ Her evil self smirked, "Shh, let's wait for his encore performance." _

_ "There's nothing more disgraceful than seeing grown men taking orders from females," Zaehringen ranted, "It's no wonder we face possible defeat when we've got a bunch of womanish idiots leading our military." _

_ He vanished a second after speaking, as did everything but the reappearing mists. _

_ "You're just doing this to trick me!" _

_ There came no answer from the mists. _

_ "Just think Miria," her evil self said, dressed in a beautiful white and gold-embroidered dress, "of what you could do if you had all the power. No more idiotic humans in your way, no more bureaucracy slowing you, no more indecision, no more comrades needlessly dying. Just you and the power you've always wanted to reshape this world into a better place. You'll be Miria the wise, creator of a great land. It can all be yours if you just open that box over there." _

_ A black box appeared sitting on top of a blocky, solid black rock table while her evil self looked on. It was decorated in gold had a glimmer of strong light eking out of it. _

_ "What's in it?"_

_ "Only what you want to find," her other self answered opaquely. _

_ Miria approached the box when abruptly it vanished. _

_ "Looks like you're too late," her evil self laughed. _

_ Suddenly she was surrounded on all sides by the Kerouac Gorge as the mists cleared. Miria looked down and squawked in alarm to find dead men everywhere. They were covered in flies, smelled awful, and far overhead came the cries of hundreds of descending vultures. _

_ "No, no, it won't end like this," she shouted, but no one replied. _

_ Miria looked around and cried out in alarm to find Captain Murat dead nearby, and not far away Galk's dead body. She ran around the field, searching in desperation for someone alive. Far away, perched atop a hill, was a set of crimson flags with golden crowns used by King Charles' armies. _

_ "Isn't there anyone left alive out here?" _

_ "Oh there is," a chillingly familiar voice said from atop a nearby hill, "me." _

_ Ophelia was merrily walking down the hill amidst leather clad bodies. Miria raced past her former enemy to the bodies when one with familiar, long curly blond hair caught her eye. The body was bloated, made especially noticeable in tight navy-blue leather, and was covered in swarming flies and riddled with arrows. Miria hesitated a second as her stomach clenched in fear then turned over the body to see its face..._

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Miria jerked up in bed, her chest heaving, Cid jerking awake next to her, looking startled.

"What in hell's name happened?" Cid asked.

"Oh thank god, it was just a nightmare," Miria gasped, calming her breathing a little, at which point Cid slapped her good-naturedly on the back.

"Good grief, I damn near shat myself," he confided in her.

At that moment, despite both of them being only covered from the waist down by the mattress covers, a tense looking Yuma entered the tent wearing her commander's uniform and armor.

"I apol..o...gize on intrud...ing," Yuma stammered, seemingly shocked at finding them both unclothed, Yuma's eyes having a difficult time not drifting in the direction of Cid's muscular chest, "but Lieutenant Colonel Galk...I mean Galacon, says the enemy army is forming up. He expects them to attack within the hour."


	9. Chapter 8: The Battle of Kerouac Gorge

**Chapter 8: The Battle of Kerouac Gorge**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**Two and a half years after the Organization's destruction, Phantom Miria, now promoted to Major General of the Army of Rabona, succeeded in one of the most audacious, multi-pronged night-time attacks in the history of military warfare. Her casualties were amazingly low, her attacks ruthlessly effective, wiping out almost half of King Charles' attacking army. However, that half of his army was of considerably less quality than that which remained.**

**After her astounding victory, Miria's main army, consisting of just over twenty claymores, 1000 pikemen, 500 swordsmen, and 500 archers moved south-west of the western hill-fort to the Gorge de Kerouac. It was soon joined by cavalry squadrons under the command of Miria's fiancée, Captain Cid Malaga and the Elite Guard under Captain Tabitha. The cavalry and Elite Guard only just slipped by King Charles' forces, but brought their army enough supplies to last several weeks.**

**King Charles' army was cut off from all of its supply lines, the most important of which ran through the very treacherous Kerouac Gorge the Rabonese Army was occupying. The other routes back were difficult, and if Charles defeated Miria's army at Kerouac, he'd have the road to Rabona's eventual conquest wide open. For both accomplished commanders, one recently triumphant, the other horribly humbled, it was a battlefield neither could afford to retreat from...**

* * *

"As you can see father, that's all of them."

His father, the bearded and graying King Charles, looked through a hand telescope down the perilously narrow length of the Kerouac Gorge. Philippe knew it was bordered by a cliff-face to the south and a small mountain to the north.

"Ah, I see the foul witch," his father commented, "take a look Philippe."

His father was on horseback and in the safety of the Royal Guard's formation. The king handed him the hand telescope and pointed towards the center of the enemy formation, where a multitude of white flags were fluttering.

"She's on that small hill overlooking the swordsmen in their center," his father instructed.

It took a moment to follow his father's instructions, as he first looked through the telescope to find a mass of pikemen, but Philippe swiveled the telescope a little too far to the right to find yet another battalion of enemy pikemen. A quick correction brought into view a battalion of heavily-armored swordsmen flanked by a stream to the south. A glance upwards found the enemy archers readying behind makeshift wooden shields planted into the ground, and just beyond that was...

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"Indeed," his father agreed, "quite the looker. You might say she's the very definition of the femme fatale."

It was not hard to spot the Rabonese general, Miria, who was distinctively armored in plate mail, golden pauldrons, gold-rimmed greaves and gauntlets, and had a magnificent gold-rimmed helmet topped with a plume of white feathers.

"It's hard to believe that she's the one who destroyed half our army."

"Yes, amazing isn't it?"

Philippe blinked and looked over at his father, who had just uttered the words with venomous sarcasm as he self-consciously touched the crown atop his head.

"Father, we had no way-"

His father began ranting: "No way of knowing that the Rabonese army would attack at night? Or that Miria would overthrow the Rabona Orthodox Church so easily? All of you imbeciles told me it would never happen!"

The hugely built General Davout tried to interrupt, "Your Majesty, we-"  
"All of you just shut up," his father yelled. "When I said I wanted to hit Rabona with the whole force, the rest of you said no. Now thanks to your advice, I have lost half of my army. To top it off, that damn witch has cut our supply lines. We are going to win here today or heads are going to roll!"

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, the Kerouac Gorge is a deathtrap," Davout reminded.

"Yes, but not necessarily if one knows the terrain," King Charles darkly smiled. "General Miria may be a master of attacking warfare, but it seems she needs experience in defense. Those pikemen she has south of the stream will be useless if it floods. If she had any experience she'd have put her pikemen in the center, but she's put swordsmen in the center. Our knights will have no trouble charging right into them."

"Even given that sire, Phantom Miria's position is outstanding given her reserves of claymores and cavalry," Davout pointed out. "She's got 2200 men and 30 claymores in a high position. We can't win if Miria doesn't commit her reserves before we send in our knights, and we can't flank her!"

"Now that," King Charles rebutted, smiling, "is where you're wrong General Davout."

* * *

"Here they come alright, just look at them Miria," Helen commented into her right ear.

Miria turned to find Helen observing the enemy advance through a hand telescope, standing beneath and to the left of her horseback perch.

"Is it too much to ask for military propriety ONE DAY in your life Commander Helen?"

Helen sighed, "No General Miria."

Perched atop a black stallion on the crest of a small hill, it was nearly impossible to miss what Helen was talking about. The Kerouac Gorge was only a few hundred yards wide where they were, bordered by cliffs to the southern, right flank. The left side of the Rabonese Army was bordered by smaller hills. King Charles' army was advancing a mile away, its numbers clearly greater.

Renee, standing to the right, cast a skeptical glance at the Rabonese center, "Should we not strip the right flank and beef up the center? The Swordsmen Battalion is sure to be hit by the full force of King Charles' knights, and pikemen are ideal for that."

Captain Tabitha, standing just a little ways off, angrily retorted, "Are you saying you doubt General Miria's decisions as a commander?"

"Officers," Miria cut off her subordinates before the spat grew worse, "we cannot be flanked, and we have enough reserves behind the center to take whatever King Charles throws at us. We have annihilated half their army in one night, and today we can win this war."

Renee surprisingly kept going after this; "All I'm saying, general, is that the hills to the north, no matter what Captain Tabitha says, are not so steep as to be impassable for enemy troops."

"Commander," Miria whispered to Renee, taking Renee under a shoulder, "I understand your concern, but don't scare our troops. If the enemy attempts anything, we'll have time to react. Remember, as long as I am on this field of battle, we cannot lose."

Miria saluted, which Renee immediately returned.

"See to your troops Commander."

Renee rushed back to the right flank, where her pikemen battalion was awaiting.

It was not hard to notice that Helen was turning to leave.

"Commander Helen," Miria said, at which Helen's gold-gilded pauldrons slumped, "I would like my hand telescope back."

Helen handed it back, saluted, then walked off to the army's opposite flank.

"You'll have quite the legacy if you win here general," Tabitha complimented, walking over.

"I don't need it Captain," Miria remarked. "But," she said, adjusting her vocal chords to speak loud enough for the army to hear, "What I want is for us to win. And what I want more than anything else is for my brave men to survive! I want the brave men of Rabona to survive so that someday, when the people ask you decades from now, it will be enough to say 'I fought at Kerouac' for everyone to say, 'There walks a brave man.'"

The troops let out a huge cheer as the enemy army marched ever closer. As they shouted "long live Miria", she acknowledged their cheers. It took a mere glance through the hand telescope to see a force of around 2000 infantry marching forward, followed close behind by half their numbers worth in archers. Another thousand infantry, Charles' knights, and the Royal Guardsmen stayed back.

Miria managed a small grin as the enemy came into the deadly gorge's narrower portion a mere half mile ahead. Her grin was not sadistic; rather it was because unlike the nonsensical nightmare, Natalie's presence was nowhere nearby. Overhead the massive thunderstorm that had been coming in from the west finally began to pour rain upon the Gorge, with lightning flashing vibrantly overhead and thunder shaking the air.

* * *

"Bonjour dear Natalie," a man's voice called out from above.

Natalie looked up to find Rubel standing atop Rabona's central western gatehouse. It overlooked the last remaining major bridge across the slow-moving Toulouse River. She was on the western wall and had been hoping to see the battle when Rubel had interrupted.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you, and anyways, how did you get up there?"

"That information is not for sale," Rubel answered airily, "and anyways, you'd best keep that hand off your sword if you want your beloved mother to live."

"How dare you threaten mother," she snapped, gripping her sword in defiance.

"I suppose however," Rubel commented, "that with my being here and you being on the wall means you couldn't jump to get me, which means chasing me is pointless."

Natalie didn't give him an opportunity to taunt further, but backed away along the wall, preparing her move.

"Whatever it is you're planning I'd suggest against it," Rubel advised.

Natalie instead started running the opposite direction, jumped sideways feet-first onto the side of another gatehouse, and pushed off. She sped up, took a few preparatory bounds, and made a last massive push-off from the wall's stone walkway. Her jump carried her up to heights beyond her most optimistic hopes, and she made the two-story jump with plenty of height to spare.

Natalie landed immediately before a surprised Rubel, drew her sword, and swung it forward at his neck. Rubel blinked in surprise to find his head still atop his shoulders.

"You did say my mother's life was in danger," Natalie whispered dangerously, "so start talking."

"Ah, yes I did," Rubel murmured, seemingly glancing at her blade a mere inch from his neck, "You see, Miria's forces are inadequate for winning the battle. The enemy has enough infantry and archers to send another force around her flank on an old sheep path. In order to slow them down, Miria will have to deploy the Elite Guard. When she does so, King Charles will send in his one thousand armored knights into the Rabonese center. Without the Elite Guard to hold them back, they'll break through, and very soon your mother's valiant defense will become a senseless slaughter."

"So how do I stop that from happening or have you not figured that out?"

Natalie was trying to sound dangerous but not entirely succeeding.

"King Charles will be at the back of the enemy army, escorted by only the hundred soldiers of his Royal Guard. If you were to kill King Charles and his top general, you could throw the enemy army into disarray and allow your mother to win the battle," Rubel suggested.

"What's the catch?"

"Danger of dying I suppose," Rubel admitted, "but chances are much better your dear mother would survive. I don't see why you wouldn't act—it's what a good daughter would do."

"I am a good daughter, and I know you're just trying to provoke me into-"

"What kind of a useful daughter lets her mother die while doing nothing?"

"Good job Natalie," Camilla's voice interjected, "we're coming up in a moment!"

Natalie looked down to the wall below to see coif-haired Camilla and white-haired Virginia running up. Behind them was an entire company of spearmen, and then Virginia motioned to the men, and dozens rushed forward, into the gatehouse's wall door.

Camilla and Virginia were readying to jump the two stories when Rubel moved, drawing back from the sword quickly, and then throwing something. There came a flash of white light followed by suffocating white smoke, and then Natalie found herself alone. The silver-eyed cousins arrived a moment later, both scowling at Rubel's disappearing act for a moment.

"Wait a minute, there he is," Camilla shouted, pointing to the gatehouse's edge.

Rubel was descending on a hangar dangling from a zip line. This was attached to the gatehouse flagpole, with its other end attached to an open window two blocks away.

"He's not getting away that easily," Captain Virginia remarked, emphasizing the point perfectly by slashing the zip line with one vertical swing of her massive sword.

Rubel squawked in alarm as he fell into the thatched roof of a house under construction. A massive pile of dust and debris plumed skyward as Captain Virginia, Camilla and a half dozen soldiers ran down the tower's stairs and out of sight after the ex-Organization handler. Natalie remained, alone atop the gatehouse tower, its white flag with Rabonese dollar and wings symbol emblazoned in gold fluttering in the high winds. She suddenly noticed that there was another small line attached just under the flag, this one descending away from the city and towards the battle.

_"Useless, she's frickin' useless Miria," Helen's voice rang out. "There's no point in training her. She belongs in a kitchen, not on the battlefield." _

Natalie looked around even though she knew the voice was in her head.

_"You want my opinion Natalie?" _It was Renee's sympathetic voice in her head now. _"The only way you'll ever truly gain respect is if you do something incredible." _

Natalie's decisive spirit was broken a moment later by remembering her mother's plea.

_"Natalie, please, I understand how much you want to fight, but it would be too painful for me to watch. No mother wants to see her children on a battlefield, even a claymore like me." _

_ Natalie_ inhaled sharply at hearing Miria's voice, and then glanced both towards the pursuit of Rubel and the stormy battlefield far to the west. Tears began running down her face…

"_What kind of a useful daughter lets her mother die while doing nothing?" _

It was Rubel's voice, tormenting her now as she seesawed between helping in the battle and pursuing Rubel alongside Camilla and Captain Virginia.

_"The only way to make tough decisions is to follow your heart Natalie. That's the way I decided to marry Raul. Miria loves you, but someday you're going to have to make a decision on your own that she disagrees with. You can't remain Miria's little girl forever Natalie." _

It was Nadia's voice from a long time ago, just a few weeks after they'd first come to Rabona, but deep down Nadia's words felt instinctively right. Natalie suddenly noticed she was standing upon a hanger. It looked as though its triangle steel shape would be conveniently strong enough to support her weight going down the nearby zip line. She could see the zip line's end was on the opposite river bank. Natalie took one last glance at Rabona, and then put the hanger on the zip line.

* * *

"Alright, let's not panic Camilla," white-haired Virginia said, pacing around Miria's strategy room, the lightning of the storm outside flashing through the window behind Miria's desk.

"What's not to panic about Virginia?" Camilla countered, "Natalie is nowhere to be found, and Miria's going to go ballistic if we don't track her down!"

"Let's just start with what we know Camilla," Virginia stated, sighing.

"What we know is about half an hour ago Natalie probably left in the direction of the battle."

Camilla was sitting on one edge of the strategy room while Virginia paced before her looking like a nervous wreck, running her fingers through her white hair.

"I know that Camilla," Virginia responded, looking at her with frantic silver eyes, "but I think if Natalie were to get hurt in that battle, Miria wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Oh come on, this is Miria-"

"I'm not kidding around Camilla," Virginia shouted, "Miria might be able to handle you or me dying, but she's always wracked by guilt about comrades dying. If Renee or Helen were to die, I don't think we'd ever see the same Miria again, and if..."

"And if what Virginia?"

Virginia's armored shoulders slumped at the mere question.

"If...if Natalie were to die, I don't think Miria would decide to live on," Virginia stated quietly.

"Oh come on, Miria's not the-"

"What do you know of Miria, Camilla? Half the time the only thing you care about is your hairstyling, and the rest of the time is split between finding cute men and your duties as a soldier. I've been through Miria's files from the Organization, and she has two known bouts of near-suicidal depression. We need to get someone to go out, find Natalie, and bring her back," Virginia declared a little more certainly.

"Then there's only one claymore around who could find Natalie, and she's downstairs Captain."

"Galatea? You want me to authorize Galatea's release Camilla? That woman is loyal to the church, tried to kill Miria, and we've had her imprisoned for the last few days, why would she help us?"

Virginia seemed very dubious on the proposition.

"Galatea's been betrayed by the church, and besides, even Galatea should know the consequences if Miria awakened in despair," Camilla pointed out.

"That's a terrifying thought," Virginia agreed, "and the only ones capable of stopping whatever resulted would be Raki and Claire, wherever the hell they are now. Alright, we'll release Galatea in exchange for her help, and if she doesn't agree, scare the hell out of her until she does."

Camilla left Virginia in Miria's office, and ran past numerous surprised guards on the way to the basement stairs. Descending at an almost unsafe speed, the keep's spiral stairwell went by quickly. She opened the stairwell's ground floor door with perhaps a little too much force, sending a messenger in red sprawling.

"Sorry," Camilla apologized to the shocked messenger, and then kept running.

She kept going past the central entrance hall, then rushed around to the left and down a flight of stairs to the vault. A large claymore was nestled before the immense vault doors in a glass case. A dozen well-armed guards immediately snapped to attention as she clambered down the last few stairs into the dank stone anteroom lit only by dozens of candles. The men all presented arms and salutes.

"Lieutenant Camilla," their sergeant said, standing at attention, "you want to open the vault?"

"Yes, get the vault open, I've got to see the traitor immediately."

The men quickly spun the vault's locking mechanisms open, and with a great heave, they opened the vault door to a room filled with treasures and lit only by a pair of candles. Camilla grabbed a sword case from next to the door and walked in escorted by a pair of lantern-wielding soldiers. A nun with milky white eyes sat in a dank corner sniffing.

"Have you come to test my faith, or just to taunt me in my captivity Camilla?"

It took merely throwing the claymore's case at Galatea's feet to get a different reaction, "What is this, some sort of cruel joke?"

"I'm not joking around; Natalie's gone, probably to help her mother, and Captain Virginia wants your help in finding Natalie and bringing her back," she told Galatea.

"I want full amnesty for the church's leadership and myself," Galatea demanded.

"Wrong answer miss zealot, but gee, it's too bad. You're going to look a lot worse in six months than you do now for your penal hearing with the Council of Lords. If you help, General Miria will probably allow you to get some new clothes, haircuts, not to mention get you a bath. I'd agree to it, but what do I know about you, especially since most nuns walk around with split ends anyways."

"Alright," Galatea huffed, "I get the damn picture already!"

"So you'll do it?"

Galatea seemed lost in thought, "Well..."

* * *

Nina asked, "What's that whistling sound Renee?"

Renee knocked Nina to the ground behind the pikemen formation's wall of shields, and a second later several dozen arrows hit the ground where Nina had been standing. A formation of concealed archers was just visible behind the oncoming formation of enemy infantry.

"Holy shit that was close," Nina exclaimed.

Renee helped Nina up, and then shouted at the formation, "Maintain Bouclier formation until the enemy is within fifty yards!"

The pikemen barely acknowledged as a wounded member of the battalion was hoisted out of the ranks. The man had been hit by an arrow in the neck, and was already nearly dead as his blood gushed out of the horrible wound. Renee motioned over a pair of nearby archers, who carried the man away using a bow as a crutch.

Nina asked, "Isn't there anything more we can do for him?"

"If we lived in a more advanced time, perhaps more would be capable of rendering medical assistance, but we don't, so all we can do is hope he'll survive," she told Nina.

A moment later a renewed torrent of rain began falling upon everyone, heaping more misery upon combatants on both sides. The axmen were marching forward now at double their previous pace despite the mud, the archers behind them falling back as Yuma's battalion loosed a horrific volley upon them. A number of the pikemen looked over in anticipation as the axmen closed the distance.

"All men, switch to battle formation," Renee shouted.

The pikemen, lined five deep, swung their curved rectangular shields down, and three lines of pikes swept downwards to join the front line's pikes. Within moments the formation had four lines of pikes and a shield wall protecting it. The axmen came on heedless of the mass of pikes awaiting them.

"Front line," Renee bellowed, coming forward along the stream's bank to view the formation's front, "assume kneeling position and embed pikes for impact!"

The men got the message quickly, and the front line fell to one knee and then embedded their pikes in the ground just behind them. The men only just got the pikes up into their properly angled positions when the axmen came upon them. The axmen's front ranks attempted to jump or hack their way through the wall of pikes, just like the swordsmen of the previous three charges had attempted.

The front row of pikemen managed to absorb some of the attack on their row of pikes, several axmen being horrifically impaled. Some axmen hacked or jumped their way into narrow gaps, where most met a similar fate, skewered upon the thrusts of numerous pikemen from further back. Half a dozen particularly daring axmen tried to run up the streambed between the Nadia's swordsmen to Renee's right and her own formation.

"Commander Renee," Nina shouted, pointing at the men in alarm.

"I've got them, don't worry!"

Renee descended onto the banks of the streambed, just above the small but building waters flowing past. One axe man charged her and swung down with a powerful swing. Renee deflected the battleaxe blow, and then felled the man with a vicious slash from head to groin. He fell backwards, gushing blood, into the stream's waters as others charged forward into the gap between formations.

Dodging one downwards swing by stepping aside, Renee was forced to parry the attacks of two different axmen at once. Knocking back both battleaxes and their owners with a high horizontal swing, she then slashed in the opposite direction, slipping the blade under the men's shields and across their legs. They fell, grunting in pain and surprise, into the growing stream, dying the waters red as they flailed uselessly against the current and disappeared out of sight downstream.

Her moment of triumph was short-lived, as the third axe man had sprinted forward in an incredible show of bravery. Renee ducked just as he swung for her head, but his axe connected with her steel helmet in a glancing blow. Knocked sideways by the impact, she found herself helmet-less as the axe man raised his battleaxe for one last swing. It never happened, and a second later, after grunting in obvious pain, he fell almost atop her, felled by an arrow.

Renee dodged his falling body and abruptly noticed a wall of water coming down the stream banks right at her. It took an instinctive leap to clear the torrent of water.

"Commander," Nina quailed, sounding distressed.

It took a mere glance for Renee to know why Nina was distressed; Nina was on the opposite bank of the stream with the men, which was dangerously close to overflowing. Nina waved at her frantically as the pikemen repulsed yet another wave of enemies.

"Commander, you can't jump the stream, it's too -," Nina shouted from behind the lines. Nina's next words were cut off in the midst of the torrential rain and booming thunder and lightning overhead.

"What did—"

"I said, you can just go back and," Nina said, at which point a particularly impressive thunderclap covered up whatever Nina was saying.

"I'll just go back to the bridge-"

Renee was about to talk more, but at that very moment the wooden bridge the troops had marched across further upstream was being carried downstream right past her.

"Shit," Renee muttered.

"Renee," Nadia's voice interjected, "just get to Miria's side. There's nothing you can do!"

A glance was enough to find Nadia leaning in, a hand outstretched. Renee took Nadia's armored hand and was quickly pulled to her feet by the shorter but impressively armored Nadia.

"Come on Renee," Nadia urged, "the general needs you more than your battalion."

Just over Nadia's shoulder were the heavily armored lines of the swordsmen battalion, which was facing a charge from an incoming wave of twice as many enemy swordsmen.

"Nadia, the battalion-"

Nadia took one glance at the incoming wave of attackers and changed her mind.

"Alright, Renee, stay with me until they're beaten back!"

Yuma's archer battalion loosed a deadly volley just as enemy swordsmen charged the last hundred yards towards Nadia's swordsmen. The volley intercepted the enemy swordsmen in mid-charge, cutting down dozens as others jumped over their fallen comrades. The archers looked on nervously at the fighting a dozen yards away as Nadia's men nearly buckled under the attack.

Renee moved into the thick of the fighting with Nadia, hacking, slashing, parrying and on occasion dodging enemy blows. It was a frenetic, desperate fight, with Nadia hacking one enemy in half while Renee parried the attacks of five separate swordsmen. Renee could see Nadia was rushing over to help when an opportunistic man slashed down from the side.

"Nadia!"

Nadia's left arm had been chopped in two, with the arm having been cut off above the elbow. It looked dire until Nadia spun clockwise, swung the blade, and neatly decapitated the foe as she fell into the battlefield's mud. Renee ran to help Nadia, but nearly half a dozen enemies blocked the way. Nadia meanwhile was having trouble getting up without a second arm, and three swordsmen rushed to press the advantage against her.

Renee decapitated one opponent only to have to back flip away from four simultaneous attacks. Upon landing it was impossible to miss seeing an enemy swordsman pin Nadia's remaining full arm into the mud by impaling it with a longsword. Nadia however had other plans, and with a swift kick knocked her attacker unconscious. However the other enemy swordsmen kept coming towards the struggling Nadia. Nadia was fighting with desperation to stand, but it seemed Nadia's end was nigh.

A sudden flash of movement came, and abruptly six men went knocked down, blood sprayed out in a horrific arc as they hit the ground. Standing above Nadia, looking magnificent in clean armor, was Miria, wearing a look of absolute determination. Even with Miria present the enemy swordsmen didn't hesitate to attack.

Miria de-handed two men behind in a superb rotating sword swing, then spun to cut down three men to the right with a vicious horizontal cut. The other swordsmen scarcely had time to notice this abrupt thinning of their ranks when Miria mercifully decapitated the two screaming men who'd lost their hands. Miria parried one sword attack, and then with brutal efficiency Miria decapitated the remaining three enemies in a nearly 360 degree spin of her blade. The display was utterly awe-inspiring, especially since it'd taken Miria less than five seconds to accomplish all of the moves.

"Retreat, retreat!"

Renee looked past Miria and Nadia to find the enemy swordsmen were running back to the safety of their own lines. However, a second glance found one reason why: Tabitha's Elite Guard had just hacked into the enemy with horrific results. The Elite Guard was beginning to chase the retreating swordsmen when Miria called out.

"Captain Tabitha, help relieve the pressure on Commander Helen's pikemen!"

Tabitha and another seven silver-eyed soldiers instead charged outwards towards the distant enemy formations of reserve infantry. However the Elite Guard changed direction, swords drawn, and accelerated to the left. The enemy pikemen attacking Helen's men spotted their new attackers too late.

The eight claymores smashed into the enemy pikemen formation like a force of nature. Tabitha and Miata, who hit the formation alongside one another, each took out four enemies a piece. With their commander screaming for retreat, the pikemen hastily drew back.

"Not bad," Nadia commented while being dragged to her feet by Miria, "But why are they not deploying the heavy cavalry yet general?"

"They're softening us up for the final blow."

* * *

A glance at the battlefield was enough to confirm it was a bad situation from where Miria stood. Axmen and swordsmen were pinning down Helen and Renee's pikemen battalions on both flanks, while an incoming massed charge of enemy knights were seemingly unaffected by two volleys of arrows showered upon them by Yuma's battalion. The knights closed the final yards as Nadia's swordsmen braced for the attack with an interlocking wall of shields.

The knights hit in a spectacularly mixed way, some of the horses rearing up at the last moment and ditched their riders. Others smashed into the lines, crushing several swordsmen, but were dismounted by the force of impact. A few dozen knights jumped the swordsmen's' lines entirely and were scything their way into the less prepared archers. A young claymore officer in Yuma's battalion charged toward a mace-wielding knight who'd just killed four archers with grisly efficiency.

The silver-eyed warrior deflected his mace at the last moment with an upward swing, and with the next swing, unhorsed the knight, whose dying horse crushed a pair of unlucky archers beneath it. The knight was about to receive the death blow from the claymore when another knight came in swinging a chained mace. Its attached spiked ball whipped into the claymore's helmet, puncturing it horrifically, and almost immediately the claymore crumpled to the horror of the nearby archers.

The victorious knight's triumph was short-lived, as he'd charged right into the sword range of Yuma, who decapitated both the knight and his horse. Yuma attempted to slay the other knight, but was unhorsed herself by his last-ditch defense.

Not waiting for Yuma's defense, Miria turned to Cid and Matilda, "Counter-charge now!"

Cid and Matilda charged forward, followed by two hundred comrades, the hooves of their horses thundering as they passed by her and smashed into a pocket of enemy knights who'd been threatening to break the center in two. Cid hit the front by deflecting a blow from one enemy knight with his shield while wounding another with a quick slash of the longsword.

Tabitha came forward, saluting, "Shall the Elite Guard join in General?"

"Well..."

The battle was not going well. Nearly half of Nadia's men were already dead or dying, and the others were frantically fighting for their lives. Nadia, after having half an arm hacked off, had been replaced as the swordsmen's commander by Renee. Renee was fighting desperately to hold the line with half a dozen claymores and the remaining swordsmen.

Yuma, having dealt with prior threats, was busily using Yoki nearby to heal Nadia and four other maimed claymores no longer fit for combat. Further to the left Helen's pikemen battalion was holding the line, but Nadia's swordsmen were being pushed back too far.

Helen corrected the situation by drawing the pikemen back further, where the gorge was slightly narrower, and where the battalion could form a line with Renee's remaining swordsmen.

"I want you to-"

"Belay that, belay it," Renee shouted, running forward, "they're sending a thousand men up the ridge to the north of Helen's men."

"Are you sure Commander?"

"As sure as I can be general," Renee replied, pointing in the direction of the hilly northern edge of the Kerouac Gorge.

"Where are they?"

Renee took out a small hand telescope, handed it to Miria, and then pointed. Miria saw the large contingent just beneath the tree-line approaching the ridge of the small mountain above them. The hill descended on the other side and bottomed out a mere hundred yards behind Helen's battalion.

"There's still time to stop them," Renee shouted, sounding desperate.

Miria sighed as she heard Renee's words, then closed her eyes for a moment.

Tabitha asked, "General, what are your orders?"

Blinking her eyes open at Tabitha's address, Miria responded, "Take the Elite Guard and stop them from flanking our men."

Tabitha grimly motioned seven other claymores forward, but before they left, each took a bow as well as four quivers of arrows. The Elite Guard then began a frenzied climb up the gorge to catch the flankers before they reached the summit...

* * *

It was difficult to keep up the pace Natalie had to admit. She had been running across the western plains of central Toulouse for several hours now, and it was wearying her legs terribly. But despite panting like a dying mule, she was still jogging along at good speed.

"Why does this entire distance have to be uphill?"

It was a rhetorical lament, as everyone knew the Kerouac Gorge was a mountain pass. The only saving grace for Natalie's legs was that the climb started on gentle plains. There were other things to constrict her on the way: low-lying marshes, long grass, several herds of cattle, and mud resulting from a horrendous downpour minutes earlier. Her tight-fitting leather stockings were leaking water inside as she ran along a muddy road.

"Ah nuts," Natalie exclaimed, trying to squish the water out of her outfit.

She reached the ridge top to find an incredible sight of the battle beyond. Far in the distance, deep within the Kerouac Gorge's mountainous walls, was a line of battle. Mixed up in it were countless horsemen and infantry, some waving the white pennants of Rabona. Far more were waving the crimson and gold-crowned pennants of King Charles' army however.

Miria's yoki was unmistakable, but it was also being kept tamped down like a light being dimmed. Renee's was nearby, and Natalie noticed Renee's yoki was far more stressed out. Then there was a gathering of very weak yokis farthest away, with Yuma's reassuring presence near them.

"Oh no, mom's got ten claymores too wounded for action already?"

Anyone, yoki-sensing or not, could tell the battle was going badly for Rabona's forces. Far in the distance, upon a northern ridge overlooking the battle, was a group of King Charles' forces. Her heartbeat skyrocketed; if those forces hit the rear of her mother's troops, the battle would be over.

Closing her eyes once more, it became possible to sense Captain Tabitha leading up a troop of seven other claymores towards the flanking enemy troops. It would have been easier to notice Tabitha's yoki except for the extreme stress and strength of Miata's yoki. It felt almost as if Miata was disgusted, even puking on the battlefield. But that couldn't be right; Miata, after all, was a well-known butcher of opposition.

Tabitha's yoki lingered by Miata's a little while, then became determined and moved on at top speed. Tabitha's yoki became abruptly flummoxed for a moment.

"Oops," Natalie murmured, realizing that Tabitha might have momentarily sensed her. "I've got to tamp down on my Yoki."

Tabitha's yoki settled down a moment later, and with unmistakable battle fever apparent, six yokis went slamming into an all-out battle with the flanking troops. Miata's yoki read almost as if Miata were sick, but that couldn't be right. Claymores were well-known for many things, but falling ill was one thing no one had ever noticed a claymore becoming.

"Come on Miata," Natalie snapped purposelessly, "mother's counting on you."

Her pointless encouragement did no good, and it had distracted from looking over the battlefield. A few hundred yards away from the ridge upon which Natalie was standing was a large cluster of horsemen. They were surprisingly well-armored, and each one was holding a spear with a large crimson and gold-crowned pennant upon it. The wind was really gusting now, even as the storm had passed, flapping the pennants furiously. It took a moment to realize the crowned man in the middle of the horsemen was royalty.

"King Charles," Natalie hissed.

King Charles was middle-aged, had a graying beard, and also a sizable crown atop his head. Near Charles was a younger, dark-haired, extremely handsome young man, while rounding out those closest to King Charles was a monstrously huge man in thick armor.

Some of the troops near King Charles were moving away now, including what looked to be hundreds of pikemen. Further away from Charles' bodyguards was a group of several hundred archers. Natalie had become so engrossed in figuring out when Charles might be vulnerable she'd neglected to sense for yoki. It was only when she started looking for a stealthy way down the grassy hill to King Charles that it became possible to notice.

Galatea's yoki, along with that of Camilla, were heading straight for her. They were little more than a mile away behind, and as she looked back, they became barely visible. Her stomach clenched in both fear and apprehension. Had she come all this way for nothing? Was it really not to be, and why was she doubting herself now?

Galatea's yoki flickered, almost as if trying to scream, "Wait!"

Charles was so close Natalie could smell his bodyguards' horses, but even as she wavered Galatea and Camilla were putting on a fresh burst of speed, closing the distance at considerable pace. Natalie closed her eyes one last time, sensing the desperation of the remaining claymores in combat.

There should have been 31 yokis, but only 30 were even apparent. Twelve of those were clearly too weak for combat, while seven were engaged in truly ferocious combat on the ridge. That left a mere eleven claymores, aside from Miria, to hold the line of battle with a declining number of men.

"What should I do?" Natalie cried, "I don't know what the right thing to do is!"

She was literally only a few hundred yards from an oblivious King Charles and yet she was paralyzed by indecision. It was in this moment that again remembered Nadia's words.

"_Miria loves you, but someday you're going to have to make a decision on your own that she disagrees with. You can't remain Miria's little girl forever Natalie."_

"I'm sorry mom, but this is something I've got to do," Natalie apologized.

Mid-way down the slope the handsome young man, who'd become separated from King Charles, had glanced back, up the hill. Natalie froze in place, not daring to ruin the element of surprise. He looked away; seemingly convinced he'd seen a phantom in the long grass. The young man was escorted by only a few bodyguards, but he wasn't the target.

King Charles, who was Natalie's target, had just split up his bodyguards, with the vast majority going on ahead towards the battlefield. There seemed to be no better opportunity to take the king down, and once he was out of the way, Natalie reasoned, her mother would win.

Natalie pushed out far to the left of King Charles' bodyguards, keeping a low profile, concealed by the abundance of long grass blowing in the wind. It was difficult to cover the distance quickly enough, as Galatea and Camilla were steadily closing in. She crouched behind a large boulder near the most distant of the King's bodyguards and waited.

Her adrenaline climbed as Galatea and Camilla's silhouettes cleared the top of the hill in the corner of Natalie's eye. There wasn't much time to wait, even though Galatea and Camilla's yokis were now moving towards her at a much slower pace. No doubt, Natalie thought, due to having to conceal themselves as they moved. Natalie was just about to make her move against King Charles when she felt shock coursing its way through Renee's yoki. There could only be one reason for it.

"Ah hell," Natalie muttered a little too loudly, "mom's going to know now."

"Who's there?"

The nearest guard called out uncertainly, sounding uncertain of whether there was anyone nearby. With no choices left now, she unsheathed her sword, spun around, and leapt into the attack.

* * *

"The Elite Guard's just engaged the enemy at close range general," Renee stated flatly.

"So this is it, this is how King Charles intends for us to die," Miria sighed.

"We haven't lost yet general," Renee pointed out.

"No, and we won't if I can help it, even without the Elite Guard's help," Miria declared.

Everywhere she looked it was a battle of bloody desperation, aside from the right flank, where Renee's former battalion was pushing off another attack with ease. They were protected from the enemy knights by the waters of the gorge's stream, which had been enlarged by the now-fading storm overhead. As it faded, so had the waters, allowing just enough clearance for a claymore to get across.

"Get me every claymore in your battalion," Miria ordered Renee, "and I'll get every claymore in Helen's battalion, and we'll hold the center."

"Yes general," Renee acknowledged, saluting before running off.

Miria ran left to Helen's pikemen battalion, finding Helen screaming obscenities at a crowd of enemy knights fearfully approaching the battalion's right flank.

Helen screamed, "Let's go assholes, who want to die first?"

When the knights held back from charging through the gap between Helen's battalion and the heavy cavalry holding the center, Helen responded by extending her right arm and cutting down four knights in a single horizontal slash.

"You bastards are so pathetic, my dead grandmother could fight better than you," Helen taunted.

Eight knights charged forward, and Helen promptly de-horsed half of them, although the other four forced Helen to actually parry their blows before she killed them. Miria was practically on top of Helen when a squad of archers plugged the gap and Helen turned to salute.

"Miria," Helen saluted in an only half-reasonable imitation of military discipline, "have you come to help out?"

"Only if I'm absolutely needed Commander. Helen, I need to give over your three claymore subordinates to my command. I'm gathering all remaining claymores from the pikemen battalions to hold the center," she explained to a grim-looking Helen.

"That desperate huh," Helen commented, "fine, I don't need them to hold the line, we're doing just fine with that. Cantarella, Rosette, and Marianne," Helen shouted, at which three claymores appeared promptly and saluted, "you're to assemble with general Miria and help hold the center."

"Of course ma'am," they answered as one.

It took only a few moments of leading the three claymores to the right to find Renee with twin pigtailed Alexandra and long-ponytailed Nina in tow.

"Alright girls," Renee addressed the five lower-ranked girls, your duty is to hold the center to your last breath. The general will only be entering the fray as our absolute last reserve."

Miria wished them well, "Good luck ladies."

"Thanks general," Alexandra grinned for a moment, then blanched at the piles of bodies and fighting in the bloody muck just a few dozen yards away.

The five claymores turned and charged forward into the fray, where their impact was immediate. Nina rushed into battle, where upon arrival she cut down a knight attempting to kill Galk, who was busily parrying the spear thrusts of a mounted knight.

"I'm not certain this is going to stop them general," Renee commented. "I've got to go back to my battalion in a minute, or else the men will begin to panic."

Renee took out a hand telescope and observed something behind the enemy's lines, "Shit, just what we needed, King Charles is sending in the last reserves, three hundred pikemen by the looks of it. Behind that he's still got a battalion of archers and I'd guess an entire company of his Royal Guard just waiting for a crack at us."

"How far away are the pikemen?"

"Best guess is five minutes," Renee replied, "And then we'll really have some problems, even if you are forced to start fighting. Shouldn't we-"

"Quiet," Miria hushed Renee, looking behind them.

Renee whispered, "What is it?"

"I...never mind, for a moment it felt like we were being watched."

"I've already had the entire gorge scouted," Renee replied, looking at the worsening center, which was being pushed steadily further back by the huge mass of enemy knights.

"Well then, best off to your battalion Commander."

Renee let out a shocked gasp, and then looked down the gorge towards the enemy army.

"What is it Renee?"

"General," Renee said, grimacing, "Natalie's coming towards us from behind enemy lines!"

* * *

"Father, it appears your victory is coming," Philippe told his bearded father, King Charles, who was astride a massive chestnut-colored warhorse next to General Davout.

King Charles smiled appreciatively back, "There, you see General Davout," his father said, slapping the huge general good-naturedly on a shoulder, "there is karma in this world."

"Yes," Davout remarked gruffly while observing the battle with a hand telescope, "it's about time those silver-eyed demons died for destroying half our army."

Philippe could make out, against the outline of his father and General Davout, the marching profiles of several hundred pikemen marching at double-time towards the battle.

"Let's see that silver-eyed demon beat us this time," his father laughed, "Royal Guard, prepare to move forward! We shall give no quarter and ask none!"

A distant movement on the hill to the east caught Philippe's eye while his father and General Davout continued onwards without him.

A Royal Guardsman asked, "Something the matter your Highness?"

"I thought I saw something out on the hill behind us."

The Royal Guardsman turned to look, but the effort was rendered futile by a distant, blinding flash of lightning from the fading storm.

"I don't believe there's anything out there your Highness," the Guardsman concluded, "We'd best catch up to his Majesty's party."

His father and General Davout, escorted by ten men on each side, were trotting along; quickly approaching the reserve archer battalion. Many of the archers were stretching in the moist, muddy field as the sun's rays reappeared.

A guard screamed out ahead of them, falling from his horse, his armored side gushing blood. Next to the guard, far out on the left side of the King's guards, was a claymore wearing a navy-blue leather outfit and wielding a huge sword.

"It's a silver-eyed witch," Captain von Mannstein screamed, "kill her!"

"Oh god," the Guardsman next to him muttered, "The rest of the Royal Guard has gone on ahead!"

The comment was painfully right on, as a mere twenty members of the Royal Guard were around the King, with the eighty others galloping on past the archers and out of earshot. The curly-haired but petite claymore gripped her sword firmly, awaiting the attack of two charging Royal Guardsmen. The silver-eyed girl jumped skywards as they attempted to spear her, and in a spectacular 360 degree turn, the claymore slashed down both men before landing awkwardly.

"Your highness," Captain von Mannstein shouted to him, "we should get back to the archers!"

"Right you are," he responded, and the two of them, along with five other Royal Guardsmen, galloped towards the safety of the archer battalion two hundred yards away.

"Come back you cowards," General Davout shouted as the silver-eyed witch took down yet another Royal Guardsman.

"You can't beat her fighting like that," Captain von Mannstein shouted back at the receding figure of General Davout.

Davout didn't have time to respond, but instead was forced to parry a blow from the witch in desperation, as most of the guards were dead, and the others were beginning to flee. Davout parried one blow with the flat of his blade, but was knocked back. The claymore tried a different course, and promptly sliced through the head of the Davout's horse. The horse's head detached with a sickening crunch, its body crumpling to the ground with Davout while its head flew elsewhere.

Davout shouted to his father, "Your Majesty, run for your life!"

Davout didn't get a second longer, as the petite warrior ran Davout through with her sword a moment later as Davout attempted to slash her from where he was pinned underneath the horse.

"Father, come on," he shouted to his bearded father, who was still near Davout, appearing to ready himself for battle.

Grudgingly, his father the king turned around, escorted by four Royal Guardsmen, and began to move towards the sheltering ranks of the archer battalion.

The witch didn't give them time to escape though, but instead cut off the path of escape, wounding one valiant guard and knocking unconscious another with a strong blow with the flat of her blade.

There was a last moment, when his father's eyes met his own, when an understanding came between them. It barely lasted, as his father was cut down, crashing onto the ground, dead.

He turned to the archer battalion making ready nearby, "Shoot the bitch!"

"But your highness," an archer officer objected, "two of our men are still-"

"They're going to be dead any second, fire anyways," he told the hesitant officer.

The female witch's chest was heaving in exhaustion now as she just barely deflected a surviving Royal Guardsman's sword swing. The man overreached though, and he was hit by a reflexive swing from the petite warrior and fell off his horse, wounded but still alive. He glanced over at the archer battalion while the other Royal Guardsman scurry for cover as five hundred archers put arrows on their strings. The archers pulled the bows taut and took aim.

The witch barely had time to start running away when five hundred bows let loose. Her body crumpled to the ground as dozens of arrows struck home into her back, limbs, and even head. It took everyone a moment to register their victory before an angry cheer rang out.

"We got the witch!"

* * *

Two figures were watching this extraordinary development from a mountaintop not far away. One of them was far taller than the other, and spoke in deep resonant tones.

"Oh no, we've got to do something," he exclaimed.

"You promised me when we left Rabona that-"

"This isn't the time for our promise," the man snapped at the smaller, hooded woman. "That was Miria's favorite that just got shot. If we don't intervene now, there will be nothing left of Rabona or any of the other claymores."

"Alright," the woman relented, "we'll go and do what we can."

* * *

"Renee, get off of me," Miria sobbed while Renee held Miria back.

"We can't let you go to Natalie, we've still people's lives counting on you," Renee pleaded.

Miria reacted by flinging Renee off with an almost effortless move of her arm. Renee landed badly, hitting her head repeatedly and rolling down the hill until she found herself staring up at a shocked Helen.

"Come on, we've got to hold her back Renee," Helen gasped while hauling her up.

There was a sudden surge in yoki coming from Miria, and one glance was enough to see why. A pair of black and white-striped wings many times Miria's height spread out of Miria's back. Each wing was beautiful but had dangerously long, sharp feathers. The sight was made all the more breathtaking by the faint sunlight falling upon Miria through breaks in the clouds. Miria's armor was glimmering while Miria's golden, snake-like eyes were welling with tears.

Miria began flapping the wings, at which point Renee rushed towards Miria with Helen in a last-ditch attempt to stop her. Miria began running forward, and just a moment after she lifted off they latched onto her legs, but to no avail. Miria ascended over the men and claymores on the battlefield, drawing a few eyes skyward. It was when Miria began accelerating forward with a powerful wing-beat that their grip upon Miria's legs slackened. The ground was over a hundred feet below, and when another wing-beat came, Renee nearly fell along with Helen.

"Miria," Helen gasped, "help us sis!"

It was too late, and they both fell at a horrific speed.

"Helen, it's been good having you as a sister."

Helen replied while steadily drifting further away in her fall, crying, "Same for you too Renee."

Then the ground came closer, and then was obscured by some low-lying fog, and suddenly the last thing Renee saw were the horrified faces of pikemen below.

* * *

"Is she dead Captain von Mannstein?"

Captain Mannstein was standing over the arrow-riddled witch's body, which was bleeding all over and had stilled recently. Abruptly the petite witch gave a shudder and hacked up blood.

Mannstein smiled at him, "No, but she's nearly there Prince Philippe."

"Cut off her head, I want it as a trophy to avenge my father," Philippe ordered.

Mannstein raised his sword over the claymore, who was gasping badly and bleeding from arrow wounds on her back, neck, legs and head. Mannstein abruptly gasped in shock, slumping over upon being impaled by giant black feather through his back and out of his chest. A number of the Royal Guardsmen and archers cried out as a large shadow descended. A claymore officer in spectacular armor with black and white wings dropped down before the witch's body. Several dozen men began running away at her approach.

"Come back you cowards," he bellowed at them, "and attack her!"

Nobody even inched forward as the angelic demon embraced the horribly wounded witch.

"I'm sorry Natalie," the angelic demon continued, its snake-like eyes crying tears of remorse.

The girl, evidently named Natalie, gasped, "I just wanted to be a good daughter and help and-"

"Hush," the demon said back, "save your strength dear."

"But..."

"I know, you were the best daughter I could ever ask for Natalie," the demoness sympathized.

"Miria," a third voice interjected.

Philippe was shocked to see a blond-haired nun audaciously approaching the winged demon.

"Miria, you've got to turn back," the nun pleaded while a coif-haired claymore arrived, gasping for breath beside the nun.

"That's Phantom Miria," a Royal Guardsman whispered fearfully.

"Natalie," Miria said, trying to awaken the slumping Natalie, "Natalie!"

Miria sobbed uncontrollably for several moments while holding the slumped body of her daughter close, then turned towards them wearing an expression of pure anger.

"Miria, you've got to stop," the nun said, holding out a large claymore.

The nun ran forward as Miria's features began to change, arteries bulging through Miria's skin. The claymores ran alongside Miria, but were abruptly sent sprawling by Miria's two wings, each landing awkwardly and unconscious.

"Run for your lives," an archer shouted, and five hundred men, including Philippe, all followed that advice as Miria's body began growing exponentially.

* * *

The only thing Miria seemed to feel was a pure, raw anger as she advanced upon the enemy archers, many of them screaming in panic. She slashed out with a hand, not even bothering to use a sword. Surprisingly her hand was now composed of with several long, vicious claws. Its length and size were useful as she slashed five men, but it was not enough to sate her burning anger.

Miria took a moment to gently pick up Natalie, who oddly seemed smaller and farther away in every moment. Miria noticed her hand had elongated, her arm turning white as it added black stripes. But Miria's only care in the world was treating Natalie's body with reverence, which she scooped up gently and hugged close to her chest.

There were bits of navy-blue cloth still clinging to her arm, but Miria paid this no mind. Instead a dozen archers had foolishly decided to shoot her. Her response was brutally effective: she shot them with rock-hard white and black feathers from her wings. The three dozen enemies saw their bodies annihilated, which was odd, given the scale of what Miria thought her wing feathers to be.

Their bodies had not so much been shot as had been gutted, with gaping holes opening up in all of them, the feathers embedding deep into the ground behind. The remaining archers were screaming now, running everywhere they could. Miria regarded these murderers with a passionate disdain, and leapt into action.

One archer was cowering nearby, but she ignored him; a coward, after all, could never have shot her dear Natalie. With an easy bound, she jumped and landed in the midst of fleeing archers. Miria noticed she'd landed with a tremendous crash, but she ignored the cries of pain from below and focused on the frantic men fleeing before her. She shot even more with her wing's lethal, fast-moving feathers.

"Not enough," Miria growled, her fury still surging, "not nearly enough. Every single one who helped murder Natalie is going to perish here today!"

The slaughter was enthralling, and her body seemed in a heady rush, the pleasure winding its way up her spine. A dozen archers in desperation unsheathed their swords and turned to face her, aware they couldn't outrun her. She obliged them with great pleasure, killing them all with a single slash of her wickedly spiked tail. Their bodies fell to the ground, cut clean in half.

Everywhere it seemed there were more lives to take in revenge for Natalie's passing. Miria kept Natalie's body close, crying in both remorse and the pleasure of taking everything from those who'd taken everything from her. She paused to find the cowardly archer from before running for his life. Miria took off and quickly caught up, thinking that perhaps she'd behead him with a snap of her jaws.

He curled up, trembling in the fetal position. Miria thought of picking him up, but given his small size that'd be too annoying. She opted to shred him with the wickedly curved claws of her free right hand. Miria swung the right arm with vicious speed, but suddenly something stopped it just short. There was a blond-haired, silver-eyed woman blocking the strike with a sword.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you not recognize your own friend anymore Miria?"

The woman was dressed in tight-fitting black leather, much like the uniforms they'd had in the days before the fall of the Organization. The woman seemed very small, with short blond hair cropped just above the shoulders and familiar silver-green eyes.

"Claire?"

"You have to stop this Miria and turn back," Claire warned.

"Stop what?"

Claire shouted, "Have you lost your senses Miria? You've nearly awakened; just look at the carnage all around you!"

Miria followed Claire's pointing to see hundreds of bloodied bodies everywhere throughout the mouth of the Kerouac Gorge. Some were chopped in two, others were horribly maimed beyond recognition, and there were dozens with enormous holes or sharpened feathers embedded in them. Blood was flowing downhill from a huge pile of horrifically butchered corpses past Claire and into a small pond nearby.

"Ahh, no, no, I can't have, I can't," Miria cried.

Staring back at Miria in the pond's reflection was not something she recognized, but rather an enormous creature. It looked a lot like an enormous predatory cat, its hide a lily-white, and its sides and back marked with beautiful black stripes. It had all four limbs upon the ground, each with a massive cat-like paw and large, lethal claws. The creature's head was a mix of a cat and a woman's features, and featured enormous, sharp teeth.

Sprouting from this reflection's back were a pair of massive white-and-black feathered wings, not unlike an enlarged eagle wings, only with longer, sharper feathers. Emanating from the creature's behind was a beautifully proportioned tail complemented with a half dozen spikes jutting out from its end. The spikes, much like the paws, were stained red with blood.

Miria knew as she stared at the lethally beautiful, lean, built-for-speed monster what she'd done in her blind rage.

"Just kill me, there's no point in living if Natalie's gone. I've failed as a mother," Miria cried. Claire's eyes narrowed at the word "mother".

"But she's not dead yet Miria. Just look at your paw," Claire instructed.

A mere glance was enough to find no sign of Natalie's body, which caused Miria's heart to race.

"You didn't drop her Miria. You infused your yoki into Natalie's body, and right now I can barely detect her yoki deep within you. If you want to see Natalie again, you're going to have to synchronize your yoki with mine while Raki pulls Natalie out."

"He's going to do what?"

A second glance at the reflection found an elongated limb wrapping innumerable times around her four, pinning them in place. The limb eventually reached back to a large, well-muscled man standing on a pair of elongated legs, his coarse, spiky brown-blond hair and face immediately recognizable. He was standing right behind the behind of the creature; her behind.

"Oh no he's not, he's not-"

Raki reached inside with a free hand, and abruptly Miria felt something move within her.

"Claire, stop this," Miria protested.

"I've got her," Raki shouted.

Claire walked forward, putting two hands on Miria's face and stared into her eyes.

"If you want this over as quickly as I do, then synchronize your yoki with mine," Claire instructed, "and Natalie will live."

Miria followed Claire's instructions, although the pain and loss of pleasure from pulling back were unbearable. Slowly but surely Miria felt her hips heave, the yoki dropping and then something small left her body. She didn't dare look, as Claire had not uttered a word. It took several minutes, but eventually Miria was staring Claire in the face and looking at her own human-form hands.

Miria turned around as Claire let go of the embrace to find an unconscious, slime-covered Natalie breathing deeply, her body nude in the grass. Raki was nearby, not quite able to look Miria in the eye.

"Thank you," Miria said softly.

Raki blushed, looking awkwardly away as Miria clutched the unconscious Natalie.

"Thank you so-  
"It's alright," Raki said defensively, "Claire, tell me you brought a change of clothes."

"Yes," Claire replied, "here."

Miria then noticed that both she and Natalie were quite nude. However, there was one feature in all that nudity that arrested Miria's eyes as she stared at her own kneeling reflection. Both her belly and Natalie's belly no longer had any scars upon them.

Raki began cringing at the slime covering one arm, "Ugh, I cannot believe I did that."

"Just don't tell anyone where your hand was," Miria snapped, feeling very awkward.

"Or else," Claire threatened.

"Of course not," Raki placated.

Miria got dressed in a black-leather outfit with a familiar skirt and long leg and arm stockings.

"This seems familiar," Miria mentioned as they both began to clean the slime off lightly breathing, blissfully sleeping Natalie.

Captain Matilda ran up, breathless, "Oh thank goodness. I thought we'd lost you for sure."

Matilda was taller even than Galatea, who could be seen unconscious nearby.

"General," Matilda saluted, "we've broken the enemy center and won the battle!"

Miria sighed in utter relief until a horrible memory suddenly popped up.

"Where are Renee and Helen?"

Matilda stiffened, "General...I'm afraid I have some bad news."


	10. Chapter 9: Dawn of a New Era

**Chapter 9: Dawn of a New Era**

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**2 ½ years after the fall of the Organization, Major General "Phantom" Miria led the Army of Rabona to an astounding victory against the forces of the warlord King Charles. His son Philippe led those soldiers that hadn't deserted, been captured or killed north-west to the port city of Gonal. Some 3000 men had been captured, another 1000 of the army killed in the field. Rabona's army in contrast had lost 914 men killed or wounded, and a mere three hybrid warriors. Their names were...**

* * *

The first thing the young woman felt as she awakened was a dull pain throughout her body, her memory foggy and head disoriented. She breathed in deep as her eyes opened to see a brick ceiling, though it took awhile for her vision to come into focus. She glanced down to find the curves of her breasts pressed firm against a tight white dress. The young woman glanced around to find a glass of what looked like beer next to her. She drank it quickly, even though it was warmer than she liked.

Looking around, she noticed the room featured a single arched window, through which warm sunlight filtered in, along with the songs of birds. She stood up and walked around to the window and opened it. She knew immediately she was in Rabona's old great tower, and judging by the windows below, on the fifth floor. Just below was the gentle flow of water through Rabona's central canal.

All throughout the city was the bustle of people going about their daily lives. Further out, just visible, were the city's walls, but these were swarmed with construction cranes and workmen. It looked like they were adding towers on top of the walls and other various things. It was hard to tell from the distance, but sounds of workmen behind her hammering away drew her attention. Not finding the source of the noise in sight, she turned around. The young woman's progress was immediately halted by a body, and suddenly she was knocked painfully upon her butt, as was the other person.

"Ow Renee," Natalie whimpered in complaint at the contact with her, "Why did you turn around so suddenly?"

She grabbed the leather outfit-clad Natalie with an unspeakable joy even as her body was screaming for a respite.

"How are you still alive?"

"Calm dowwwwnnn Ree...neee," Natalie breathed out, her long wavy blond hair whiplashing back in forth with the shaking.

Renee stopped shaking Natalie and instead hugged her hard.

"Owww, Renee!"

A deeper female voice interjected, "Renee, why don't you take it easy on my daughter?"

Renee turned to find a woman standing nearby with blue and silver eyes, brown-blond hair cascading off her head in two spiky bangs, and a spiky ponytail in back, arms folded. The woman's face was attractive, with a tall forehead and pointed nose, and a modest if sculpted chin. The warrior's looks weren't quite familiar, but the yoki was very familiar.

"Miria?"

"Well at least your head's still working Renee," Miria sighed while faintly smiling, "You had us all very worried after we found you unconscious on the battlefield. Yuma said you broke 125 bones, and the comrades of those pikemen you landed upon speared you to make matters worse. Luckily for you, your armor stopped a pike from piercing your heart. Sister Galatea, Commander Yuma and some others managed to use Yoki synchronization to save you, since we found you unconscious and thus couldn't use your own to heal," Miria explained.

Miria was wearing a black dress that bared her shoulders for the world's inspection. It was trimmed in white, with numerous decorative lines down the dress' arms.

"What happened to you general?"

"I nearly awakened, and the side effects of reverting back are what you are seeing. Don't worry about it, I'll be fine," Miria reassured, "Renee, I want to apologize for what happened. I should've cared more than to let you drop from my arms. I was just so distraught over Natalie-"

"It's alright Miria," Renee said, sympathetic, "I understand why you-"

Renee was interrupted when the cot in the dark corner of the room overturned to everyone's surprise.

Helen got up, ruffled hair and all, looking very indignant to ask, "Why the hell didn't anyone tell me little sis was up?"

"Helen, how in the world are you still alive?"

"Oh that, um, well, Renee, the thing is I remembered to extend all four of my limbs enough to slow down my descent. I ended up breaking every bone in my arms and legs, but I was in a lot better shape than you were. You nearly died on Yuma; if it weren't for Claire and Raki's help," Helen trailed off, a great deal of guilt in Helen's expression.

"They're back?"

"Yep, both of 'em, and guess what! Since you were out, Claire and Raki arrived in town...with their twins!"

"I want to see them," Renee declared to the general alarm of Helen, Miria and Natalie.

"Some other time," Helen demurred, "right now I'm just glad you're better," Helen sniffed, hugging Renee far too hard.

The pain surged up Renee's back, "Owww, oww, Helen, stop, stop it now," a command at which point Helen belatedly stop the hugging. "I think you broke something in my back!"

"Okay Helen," Miria cautioned, "I think that's enough visiting Renee for a little while. We only just finished setting all of Renee's bones yesterday, and it took five days since finding Renee to set all of them. If you don't want Yuma upset, then you'll wait a few hours for Renee to heal."

"Oh alright," Helen grudgingly agreed, then in a spurt of affection, turned to kiss Renee on both cheeks while Miria and Natalie laughed, and then even after she resisted, Helen kept going by kissing her on the lips once.

"Knock it off! This had better not be a regular occurrence, you know I'm not the over-affectionate type," she huffed at Helen, who merely smiled while leaving the room.

"Here," Miria said, who was helping to bring Renee back to the bed, "Natalie, give me that pillow, we'll have you put your back against it sitting up in bed Renee."

With the arrangements finished, Renee found sitting back in the bed was a relatively pain-free experience.

"Better?" Miria asked.

"Yes," Renee sighed, enjoying the soft comfort of the bed.

Renee noticed on Miria's left hand was a golden ring with a large red sapphire atop it.

"Wait, why are you wearing a ring Miria?"

Miria smiled, "Cid and I are going to get married in six months. Speaking of the wedding, would you like to be one of my bridesmaids?"

"What...I mean I'd love to be. But I don't have anything I could wear in a wedding," Renee admitted to Miria, who smiled, looking radiant in the sunlight coming from the window.

"I'll see to it that I find you something then," Miria agreed.

Renee queried, "I take it we won the battle?"

"Completely, but we lost Katrin, Marie, and Sabine during it, Alessandra and Ursula in the night raids, Josephine before it, and just under a thousand men. King Charles is dead thanks to Natalie, his son has fled back to Lautrec, and Natalie is grounded for a year for disobeying me and following Rubel's advice," Miria stated, her disapproval quite evident.

Natalie hardly said anything, but instead awkwardly squirmed and bit her lip.

"Although," Miria relented, "I'm impressed you trained her well enough to take out a king. In the meantime, Virginia, you can come in now and get Renee measured!"

White-haired Virginia entered wearing the usual warrior's leather outfit while holding a tape measure.

Renee objected, "I've already got this dress, we don't need to actually to spend all my money on another, do we?"

Renee had asked Virginia while looking down at the tight-fitting white dress, which was far from ordinary.

Virginia sternly responded, "First off, it's so tight your nipples are showing through Renee, and secondly I am making your dress, so you're not wearing that borrowed dress, got that?"

Renee looked down again at her chest and reddened upon realizing the truth of Virginia's words.

"I hadn't noticed that," she admitted to Virginia, wretchedly embarrassed.

"Top off if you please," Virginia instructed with a business-like air.

She followed Virginia's instructions as Miria closed the window. While Virginia began stretching out the measuring tape and Miria watched, Virginia pressed a cold finger to her chest, and then wrapped the cool tape measure around her body as gently as possible. Miria sat coolly observing until the door opened and in walked Cid and Galk.

"General we've been...," Galk trailed off, gaping, as did Cid, both noticing her topless state.

Miria wheeled on the two of them with a vengeance, "Out you imbeciles!"

* * *

"Well they are pretty adorable," Cid admitted, looking at twin silver-eyed toddlers nestled in the arms of a white dress-wearing Claire, whose eyes were speckled green and silver.

Claire agreed fervently, although with few words, "They are cute, aren't they Cid?"

They were on the fifth floor of Rabona's old keep, where it had been renovated with a stone balcony. Below them was the parade ground square beneath the tower. Beyond that was the budding skyline of Rabona, where hundreds of workmen could be seen erecting new church spires, large block homes, stores, palatial manors, and even working on the cobblestone streets. Far in the distance to the south was the 15-story, triple-towered Teresian Cathedral and the single tower of the ten story tall Lord Mayor's Residence across the square from it.

Galk nudged him in the side, "What Cid meant to say is that they reminded him of how much he's looking forward to officially being Natalie's father."

"I never would..."

Cid trailed off as Miria walked up wearing her finest armor, helmet held to one side. The five of them turned to Miria, including the two curious toddlers.

"I hope you're properly ashamed of yourself dear, and the same goes for you Galk," Miria remarked, crossing her arms as she stood like a stern statue before the balcony's large wooden door.

"Look, I'm sorry honey," Cid apologized, stretching out his arms while Galk remained silent; "I hadn't expected Renee to be partially undressed when we found you."

"Hey now," a masculine voice interrupted.

Raki entered the balcony wearing a simple gray tunic just behind Miria, slapping Miria good-naturedly on the gold-gilded shoulder plates, which drew an annoyed stare from Miria.

"Let's not get all wound up over a tempest in a teapot," Raki advised, "We've just won a huge victory. Shouldn't we all be a little more forgiving?"

"Alright, but you had better keep your eyes on me next time dear," Miria lectured Cid, pointing to her chest, then turned to Claire, "so Claire, who are your two bundles of joy?"

Claire gave a faint smile as she handed Miria a toddler dressed in a simple red dress with wispy blond hair and a small nose, "That's Teresa," Claire said as Miria held the quiet, curious girl, "and this is Victor," Claire said of the black dress-wearing boy.

"She looks just like her mother," Miria complimented, letting Teresa clutch an index finger with her tiny hands.

Claire asked, "Cid, would you like to hold Victor?"

"Oh sure," he answered as Claire handed the toddler over.

Victor though began crying almost immediately upon leaving his mother's arms, so he handed Victor back, which immediately calmed the crying.

"I'm sorry Cid, Victor's a tad touchy, just like his father," Claire added with a grin, cradling Victor with care.

"Hey," Raki butted back, "I was not that bad when you met me."

Claire let his retort pass just as a whole crowd of a dozen claymores, including pigtailed Alexandra, white-haired Virginia, Helen, Tabitha and coiffed-hair Camilla, walked up wearing large smiles and plenty of their battle armor.

"Ah my goodness," Alexandra gushed in her almost girlish voice, "Look at those irresistibly adorable claymore babies!"

Alexandra and Camilla rushed over to Miria to see little Teresa, who was looking downright bewildered by the sudden attention upon her in Miria's arms. The dozen claymores walked into the enclosed balcony, crowding around both Claire and Miria and cooing over the silver-eyed toddlers.

"Alright, alright," Claire shouted as the attention overwhelmed Victor and he began crying again, "you'll get to see them both inside."

Claire grabbed Teresa from Miria and led the crowd of adoring claymores inside as Raki chuckled, watching them go, and then finally the enclosed balcony's door closed with a soft thud.

"Miria and I," Cid started, drawing an inquisitive look from Miria, "since we're getting married, we got a new place. We bought the entire Ile de poires yesterday; it's that gorgeous river island downstream; cost a fortune, but if you want, we'll see if we can build some lodging for you, Claire and the kids. What do you say?"

Claire spoke up from inside, "I'm not-"

"Of course, we'd love to live near you guys," Raki accepted, drawing a stern look from his overridden wife just inside the doorway. She left a moment later, so Cid pressed on.

By the way, just where in the world did Claire and you stay these past few years?"

"Oh, about that," Raki sighed, scratching the back of his head, "Claire didn't want me around the other female claymores," Raki admitted. "She was worried about the other claymores being interested, so when she was a month pregnant we moved out to a hidden valley in south-eastern Lautrec. We were living there until a few weeks before this battle, when a bunch of soldiers set up shop nearby. I got worried about the kids, so we started walking towards Rabona."

"Well, good thing," Galk commented while Miria frowned at the moment Raki had mentioned Claire being worried about female claymores' interest in him, "Your timing was impeccable."

A messenger dressed in an ornate red tunic galloped through the fortified gates below, having been motioned through by a quartet of armored guards.

Miria glanced down, setting both of her hands down atop the stone railing, and then commented, "We'll have to leave shortly."

Galk asked while looking below, "Why is that general?"

"That messenger is here from the Council of Lords, which means we've got a meeting," Miria remarked, sounding sure while leaning over to look below the stone balcony.

Miria whistled loudly, and a soldier in armor quickly walked through the open door and saluted.

Miria turned to the soldier, "Lieutenant, have the carriage readied for departure. We'll be heading to the Lord Mayor's Residence."

Galk and Raki walked out, Galk giving Cid a nod as he did so. After a quick embrace they followed, arriving downstairs to find a beautiful wooden carriage pulled by four white horses. Miria was about to enter the carriage when a small girl rushed up past the guards and grabbed Miria's leg. Miria smiled as the girl's mother came up frantically behind, held back by the guards.

The little girl squealed in glee, "Look mommy, I found the angel!"

Cid took a moment to overcome some shock and stammered, "Wait, what?"

"I'm sorry," the brown-haired mother apologized, picking up the girl a moment later, "her delusional father is under some impression that you grew wings during the recent battle."

"But mommy," the little girl complained, "daddy says he-"

"Hush," the mother commanded, then carried the silenced but wistful-looking child away, who stared at Miria as if she were divine.

"What was-"

"It was just the daughter of a deluded man Cid," Miria said, looking annoyed, "nothing more."

"If you say so dear," Cid sighed.

The carriage ride began moments later with a light jolt, and Cid found the ride was not particularly smooth, but it progressed quickly as they rushed out the gates and onto the narrow cobblestone streets. All along the way there were hundreds of soldiers in full armor standing at attention, some having to keep children from running alongside the carriage. Some adults were smiling, waving or throwing flowers at the carriage as it passed, while a few men and women showed their opinion of the anti-church coup by giving them the finger.

At long last, having gotten past the winding streets, they reached Orthodox Boulevard and sped up. Within a minute the carriage was pulled into Rabona's main square, with the triple-towered Teresian Cathedral to the left guarded by hundreds of swordsmen. To the carriage's right side was an honor guard of pikemen stood at attention in two opposing rows along a red carpet leading up to the Lord Mayor's Residence. They got out together, walking towards the Lord Mayor's Residence at a leisurely pace, with Miria leading the way followed by Raki, Galk, and Cid.

The building's grand, arched, gilded bronze front doors were opened, and they were led by a mute male servant up several sets of marble stairs until they reached the top floor. The building was crammed with chandeliers, portraits, plush red carpeting, and finely finished maple walls. In the center of the top floor's hallway was an immense arched doorway with a bronze sign overhead marked "Conseil des Lords". A pair of guards saluted as they passed by underneath, and then they found themselves in a large room, lit by candles on three immense silver chandeliers. The room's far wall was rimmed with arched windows looking out on the cathedral and the town square.

Directly before them, seated behind an immense, ornate hardwood table were ten men, all of them wearing black robes embroidered in white and looking unusually happy for middle-aged and elderly patrician statesmen. Cid noticed two men in the middle, one the hawk-beaked Ruud van Willems, the other man the older, gray-bearded Lord Mayor Zaehringen.

"Lord Mayor Zaehringen," Miria began, "it's a pleasure to see you now under better circumstances."

Zaehringen smiled, "Naturally. I wanted to keep this brief and business-like general. We'd like to reward some of your officers for their sterling service to Rabona. We offer Monsieurs Raki Lautrec, Cid Malaga, and Francois Galacon membership in the Council of Lords. For Monsieurs Lautrec and Galacon, we would like to offer the lowest noble rank of Baron. For Monsieur Malaga, the Council of Lords would like to offer you the rank a higher noble rank of Count."

Raki stepped forward shaking his head, "I'm sorry, but I cannot accept."

Zaehringen bristled, "Why not?"

"My wife is dead-set against the idea of hereditary aristocracy," Raki explained, which caused some guffawing and offense along the table.

"We're not asking your wife," Zaehringen informed Raki shortly, "we're asking you. It'd be a full-time position of great influence you could pass along to your heirs and comes with a large salary. It's not a thing for a mentally inferior female to decide for you-"

"That is far enough," Miria shouted, sounding very angry. "Perhaps you have forgotten, Lord Mayor Zaehringen, who saved this city from attack."

"I do not dispute that female claymores are gifted at warfare, general, or that they have helped save Rabona in the past," Zaehringen rebutted, "but as for any sort of civilian rule, female claymores are just as incapable as women."

Zaehringen pressed on despite Miria becoming more and more aggravated, and most worryingly of all, it was hard for Cid not to notice his future wife was still wearing her sword, "We'd be the laughingstock of the city if we were to offer females membership on this council and-"

"I have four commanders, Renee, Helen, Nadia and Yuma, who deserve the rank of Baron much more than my husband, even if he's very courageous. I'm even more surprised to find you did not think I merited such an honor given your standards."

There was a dangerous edge in Miria's voice Cid had not heard before.

Ruud van Willems intervened, drawing Zaehringen's disapproving stare.

"I'm sorry general, but allow me to explain. In order to serve on the Council of Lords, you cannot also be a member of the military. Should these three gentlemen accept our offer, they would have to give up their ranks. While I understand Lord Mayor Zaehringen's issues with female claymores in the Council of Lords, I'm sure we can come to a compromise," Ruud said in a calming voice.

Miria asked in a skeptical tone, "Oh, and what would that be?"

* * *

He was looking out the arched windows of Gonal's interim royal palace at the smooth sea when black-haired Violetta strolled in. She was wearing an extravagantly flashy black and gold-embroidered dress with a low-cut top that revealed her ample cleavage, with a pair of pearl earrings and her hair gussied up in an ornate braid. Unlike her flirtatious apparel, Violetta's face was deadly serious.

"King Philippe," Violetta called out as a dozen guards walked in escorting a middle-aged woman and a small boy no older than five into the room.

He got up, dressed in his regal best, with a large red cloak and robes, along with a simple golden crown atop his head. He straightened out to his full height and faced them as calmly as possible.

"Your Majesty," one of the guards addressed him, "Princess Violetta has discovered this woman was attempting to supplant you with an impostor son of Your Majesty."

The woman, who although middle-aged still showed some of her favorable youth and wore her rich brown hair waist-long, attempted to speak in her defense.

"Your Majesty, you must understand, you have to spare the boy-"

"Out of the question," Violetta cut the woman off, "take them away and have them punished."

The woman cast a sad glance at him before taking the black-haired boy with her, prodded along and out of the chamber by the guards.

Violetta instead turned to him and scolded, "A few weeks after nearly losing your life, and you're doing nothing but mope around? Do you even realize that that woman was planning to have you killed by her royal guard husband, or that you fathered her boy when she was an Orthodox nun?"

He asked, "I did what?"

"That woman was a thirty-five year old nun six years ago when she met a young, dashing teenage boy who'd made a pilgrimage to her church. She forced herself upon him, and nine months later, having been ejected from the church, she gave birth to that boy you just saw," Violetta said nonchalantly, smiling manically.

"What did you tell the guards to do?"

"I sent your bastard son and his mother to be hung, effective immediately," Violetta smiled.

"You evil bitch," he screamed, and ran towards the door, which was closed and locked. He ran around the room, trying every door, only to find them all locked.

"I thought you might try to save the boy," Violetta laughed, "so I ordered the guards to secure the doors against all possible attacks and lock us in."

"I'm going to kill you for this-"

Violetta cut him off by drawing out a knife from her cleavage, "You can't. Quite frankly, I don't think you're suited to be a king, at least not yet. While you were moping around the last three weeks after losing to Phantom Miria, I was taking charge of this kingdom's spies and armed forces. No fewer than thirty-one women so far have been found claiming that you've fathered their children, and of those my spies think two dozen are highly probable."

"What did you do?"

He sat down in a large, black-leather upholstered armchair as Violetta kept the wickedly sharp knife in one hand.

"I had them all killed naturally," Violetta laughed, "The very idea that I'd allow someone else to replace my child on the throne is so contemptible as to be ridiculous."

"Your child?"

Violetta continued her sinister smile, "The doctor pronounced me pregnant this morning, as he did Princesses Adelita, Eugenia, Patrizia, and Tatiana, which means you're an incredibly virile man. Of course, having that many heirs to the throne is dangerous to the succession, so I took precautions."

"You had them killed, didn't you?" He asked rhetorically, his eyes moistening. "You are a goddamn monster!"

"Nonsense," Violetta sniffed, grinning. "You said it best when you described me as the type of mother you needed to have a great heir. Your young reign has survived no fewer than fourteen troop mutinies so far thanks to my actions while you were moping around. You might be a great man in bed Your Majesty," Violetta smiled, her words dripping with judgmental fervor, "but you'll never be a great ruler without me."

"I'm sure I can try," King Philippe countered, "I'm still a man and you're still a woman.

"I may have the frail body of a woman," Violetta answered, sure of voice, "but I have the heart of a king. If you want to live on as king and not be deposed in the next six months, you still have a very good chance of ruling this island."

"Of all the things you think about after killing all those innocent people," he mouthed.

"I don't need to hear such things from a man who killed a girl just for being defiant," Violetta tartly countered, "I won't deal with you if you want to keep up your hypocrisy; heaven knows I could find more able men. What I'm offering you is the choice of living with me or dying a horrible death without my aid. Which do you prefer?"

He hid his head beneath his hands before answering, "Do you plan on killing all my mistresses over the years as well?"

"Oh, of course not, just any children of theirs you've fathered," Violetta cheerfully explained, a sadistic smile upon her face. "Although I might spare their lives if they were under my care as queen."

"If I make you queen, the only thing I ask is how do you plan to make me king of this island? How is it you plan on overcoming that monster Phantom Miria?"

Violetta pointed to a nearby stack of papers on a large table, "By using her for our purposes rather than pointlessly opposing her. I have my plan here; shall we begin with the first step?"

* * *

**Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"**

**With "King Charles' War" brought to an abrupt end and King Philippe of Lautrec posing no threat, the Rabonese city-state expanded. The Council of Lords ordered the expanding army to secure the plains and foothills surrounding the city. King Charles' army's work on fortifying 8 hills around Rabona actually wound up helping the military establish forts of its own there and control the central plains of Toulouse. Within weeks a thousand of the war prisoners were set to work building castles and barracks. Six months into their efforts, the troops had secured Rabona a ten-mile radius of well-defended and governed territory.**

**The city of Rabona itself was undergoing numerous changes, with older, winding alleyways and numerous street blocks razed to make way for the advent of city planning. Streets were widened, the city grid made logical and straightforward, and all roads were helpfully given street signs. The city's walls were massively improved with six story guard towers added every tenth of a mile. Commerce flourished as the Council of Lords lifted restrictions imposed by the prior oppressive church rules, although some abuses began occurring. The city, facing a massive influx of population threatening to push population past its old record peak of around 200,000, turned to military and civil expansion.**

**Rabona, already 3 miles east to west, and four miles north to south, saw a massive if controversial city expansion plan started under the head of state, Lord Mayor Zaehringen. The Council of Lords, stretching their finances, managed to even afford to add a one square mile fortified citadel to the plans. However, given the scope of the project and other projects going on concurrently, progress six months after victory had been slow. The Army of Rabona in that time however had achieved a sterling reputation, its troops bringing law and order to the banks of the Toulouse River by protecting commerce with a number of strategic riverside castles.**

**The population boom caused by the influx of other islanders escaping the lawless anarchy of the countryside did cause some problems for Rabona's leaders. Faced with the prospect of many recent arrivals being without work, the Council of Lords decided to absorb them through expanding the military and massive public works projects. Rabona's commanding officer, the recently promoted Lieutenant General Miria bought a river isle in the meantime, the "Ile de poires", or Isle of Pears, from where she commanded the ever-growing military. The Ile de poires was a river isle less than one square mile in area, located just a mile south of Rabona's stone walls.**

**Rimmed on all sides by the Toulouse River, it was accessible only by boat. Phantom Miria, rapidly acquiring a fortune only surpassed by Rabona's merchant tycoons and lords, purchased the isle with help from her husband. It was known for its beautiful orchards and soon as a summer home for Rabona's claymores. Miria even hired many formerly destitute girls and women to work on the isle as the personal servants of an increasingly rich group of claymores. It was here, on the Ile de poires, where Rabona's "wedding of the century" between its top general and the dashing Count Cid Malaga was about to take place...**

* * *

**6 months later...**

Renee was watching the Toulouse River flow idly around the fat oval of the Ile de poires from a small hillock. It was situated above the isle's trees, which were flowering in a beautiful array of pink, yellow and white. Abruptly Renee heard a shout from someone nearby.

"Yes?"Renee had shouted back down into a grove of pink-flowered pear trees just down the hillside.

A claymore wearing a light blue dress with a white belt, with short blond hair and a pair of rosebuds tucked behind her ears waved, "Hey Renee," what are you doing? The wedding's going to start within the hour!"

"I was just admiring the view Helen," Renee shouted back.

Helen walked up gingerly over the grass, nearly falling over several times while tripping on the hem of the dress. Helen eventually made it and sat down beside her, Helen's wooden shoes plopping off to reveal white silk stockings.

"Man, this is a pain," Helen sighed, "why can't we just wear one-layer leather like normal?"

"You know Miria would go ballistic if we showed up to her wedding in plain old leather, Helen," Renee countered, "besides, I rather like dressing up once in a while."

"Hey," a third, slightly girly voice called out from behind them.

Renee turned along with Helen to find Natalie awkwardly walking up the hill in a snug blue cotton dress. Natalie's dress, like hers and Helen's, was tight, with a lot of bared flesh above the bosom, but with no exposed cleavage. The shoulders were covered, but it cut off below the armpits, showing plenty of skin.

Natalie's arms were wrapped around a large, furry cat which was a mix of beautiful orange and white, with black stripes across its back, down both sides, and across its kitten-like face.

Renee asked, "What is that cat?"

"Renee, this is Dabi," Natalie cooed, "Nadia gave him to me as a sort of pre-wedding gift for the family. Nadia says he's a Northern Tiger."

Helen laughed, "Aren't you worried he'll be too big to handle?"

"Nooo," Natalie stammered, "Nadia said he'll grow to the size of a bobcat. Besides, since the battle, mom's taken all of my fifteen cats, one dog, three birds and four lizards away, so I can only care for Dabi now."

Helen was laughing so hard she was crying, "Oh my god, you...haha...ha...ha-ha...had four...ha-ha...lizards!"

Natalie's annoyed expression soured an otherwise cute face as Helen pounded the grass with a hand, crying tears of laughter.

"Come on Natalie," Renee said, grabbing Natalie while Helen was still attempting to stifle her laughter, "let's go back to the church."

They walked back together after Helen ran awkwardly to catch up, then half-apologized. Upon reaching the hillock's bottom they were surrounded by an immensely old line of pear trees, which were being pruned by some female field hands.

It took another few minutes to reach the northern end of the island, where they walked into a clearing filled with tables topped by bouquets of every conceivable flower. A hundred women in brilliant green dresses hurried around setting the tables with silverware, plates, cups and napkins. The ten tables were nearly as long as Rabona's immense Teresian Cathedral and crowded the clearing. The clearing was bordered on the far end by a single-towered, five-story church.

The church was painted white, with a black tiled roof, a large open belfry and bell within it, and had an arched open entryway beneath the bell tower. A squad of ten soldiers decked out in full armor and white flowers upon their helms stood near the door. Next to the soldiers was a group of individuals formed up into two lines. Claire and Tabitha were on one side, while Raki, Galk, Captain Lannes, Captain Soult and others were on the other side. Renee grabbed Natalie and Helen by the hands and dragged them forward to the ladies' line, with Claire raising an eyebrow.

Tabitha exploded, "What the hell were you three doing?"

"God Tabitha," Helen bit back, "don't get your panties in a twist, we're back and the wedding is about to start on time, so quit your whining."

"You certainly had us worried," Galk commented as Tabitha silently scowled.

Galk was wearing a fine white leather tunic with breeches and long brown leather boots, as were all the other men of honor.

It was possible, as Renee looked inside the church, to notice it was lit by candles and the midday sun, and was completed filled with rows of claymores, soldiers, their wives and families, many of whom were looking back in curiosity.

"Well sorry," Helen began, "but Renee was playing miss contemplative here," Helen pointed at her. "Now that all the bridesmaids are here, shouldn't we begin?"

"We're about to now," Cid's voice interjected. Everyone turned to find Cid behind them in much the same outfit as Galk, except with the addition of a fine white cape.

Organ music started playing in the church, and Claire began walking forward along with Raki. The bridesmaids and men of honor paired up and filed past the crowds of onlookers to either side of the church's golden, winged altar. Despite the church's religious setting, there wasn't a priest in sight. They split off, the bridesmaids to the right, the men of honor to the left. Galk was closest to the altar, and Renee guessed he was probably the best man Cid had selected six months ago.

At the front of the church's rows of wooden benches were the other female claymores, all dressed in a radiant variety of dresses, some of which were revealing scandalously large amounts of cleavage at a wedding. Cid took his place to the right of the altar as Lord Mayor Zaehringen came forward in his finest clothes, with fine black trousers, a blue and gold-trimmed cloak, and a small brown book. Zaehringen looked good with his graying beard finely trimmed and his head capped with a fine three cornered, white-plumed hat.

"Alright Cid, just remember," Zaehringen said while Renee looked on in curiosity with Helen, Tabitha, Claire and Natalie, "do everything like in rehearsal."

Cid smiled nervously, and then another pounding chord from the church's organ began the next part of the wedding. Claire's twins, Victor and Teresa, dressed up in a miniature form of bride and groom, came forward, with Victor carrying the black satin pillow that held the simple gold wedding rings. Behind them was pigtailed witch Alexandra, ushering them down the aisle every time they faltered, mostly because they had over five hundred pairs of eyes upon them.

Zaehringen took the rings from the pillow, while little Victor, barely taller than Zaehringen's knee, walked over to his father Raki. Teresa however wasn't being so cooperative and followed her brother instead of heading towards Claire like she was supposed to.

Alexandra, who was dressed in a dark green gown, coaxed Teresa to her mother's side while there was some good-natured chuckling and laughter. Alexandra quickly took a seat next to Camilla, who was smiling as they awaited Miria's entrance. Camilla began to talk a lot to her seat-mates in excited but inaudible tones while preening her coiffed hair.

Helen whispered, "Renee, why's Camilla talking to Alexandra and her cousin Virginia?"

"Camilla got to do Miria's hair, and Virginia designed and made the wedding dress, so I guess Camilla's bragging about her results," Renee answered.

The results of Camilla's work came into view as the organist and a young boys' choir joined in on a full crescendo into the melody of "Here comes the bride". Renee gasped, admiring Miria's sleeker and less pointy hair, her beautifully veiled face, and her leaf-patterned, white silk lace dress. Miria's dress trailed behind her a good twenty yards as she slowly walked up the aisle.

Natalie in the meantime had started crying, "Mom just looks so beautiful..."

Miria climbed up the steps as half the claymores in the audience started quietly sobbing, as did many of the women, and more surprisingly, a few of the men.

Zaehringen began the ceremony with a sure voice, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here to join together this Man and this Woman in Matrimony; an honorable estate, and into which these two persons present come now to be joined."

Natalie finally stopped crying as Miria looked over warningly at her adoptive daughter.

Zaehringen then continued, "Therefore if anyone can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

It was at this moment, as Zaehringen continued, that Renee noticed a middle-aged woman with lovely, glossy and bushy brown hair staring intently from the second row next to the hawk-nosed, handsome Lord Ruud van Willems. The woman's eyes didn't stare into Renee's eyes with hate, but rather just to the left, where she noticed Helen innocently staring into the ceiling.

Zaehringen was continuing, addressing Cid now as Renee noticed Miria's dress was half the church's length, "Wilt thee have this Woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after in the estate of Matrimony? Wilt thee love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

Cid answered surely as a large number of women began tearing up in the audience, "I will."

Miria answered "I will" to a similar line from Zaehringen, and the ceremony proceeded on as Renee's mind wandered. Renee began imagining herself in Miria's place as the ceremony continued.

Zaehringen was hitting full stride now, "Miria dear, repeat after me: "I, repeat your name, take thee Count Cid Malaga, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to be bonny and buxom at bed and at board, to love and to cherish, till death us depart; and thereunto I plight thee my troth."

Miria repeated this, loudly vowing, "I, Miria Victoire de Beauharnais..."

At this moment Helen's face began contorting in surprise, to which Miria smiled in amusement. Zaehringen gave Cid a golden ring after Miria completed her vows, which he put on Miria's thumb as the church turned silent, "With this Ring I thee wed." Cid followed up by taking it off and putting it on her index finger, "and with my body I thee honor," and again Cid moved the ring over a finger on Miria's bare left hand, " and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." After this Cid put it on Miria's ring finger, a hush falling upon the room as Miria repeated Cid's oath of marriage, placing a ring upon Cid's hand.

Zaehringen closed his book, looked at both bride and then groom, "You may kiss the bride."

Cid did not so much flip over Miria's veil as lunge to take it off, and a moment later the two had a long, passionate kiss, at which point Tabitha started looking away. A cheer built in the crowd as Miria surprised Cid by picking him up and rushing down the aisle with a huge smile on her face.

Cid's ponytail dangled as he objected, "Miria, it's the man who's supposed to do that!"

"You forget I'm a claymore," Miria laughed, which jovially shocked everyone present.

Helen grabbed Renee's shoulder as Miria walked down the aisle with the still-objecting Cid, "Renee, come on, let's go follow Miria out to the carriage!"

They followed as quickly as they could to the large covered carriage, which Cid clambered into with Miria, waving at the crowd of well-wishers. Miria took a bouquet of flowers and threw it over her head. It arced gracefully over many grasping female hands to arrive straight into the arms of Helen.

"There's no way that's happening," Claire remarked to Helen as Miria and Cid's carriage left and everyone shouted or whistled their approval.

"Gee, thanks," Helen sarcastically bit back at Claire.

"Ah come on you two, let's not squabble," Natalie interjected, "look, here comes the food!"

Several hundred women in dark green dresses brought forward steaming platters of food. They had come from nearby wooden buildings just barely visible beyond flowering pear trees to the north. Some brought platters of fish, from rainbow trout to perch, carp, tuna, and catfish; others brought salads filled with tomatoes and peppers. The servers lined up the food, which kept coming in new varieties, along two sets of tables, and people soon began gathering plates to take back to eat at the long tables clustered to either side in the clearing.

It took Renee hearing the pangs of an empty stomach to find Alexandra next to Helen, Claire, Natalie and herself.

"Oh man," the pig-tailed Alexandra exclaimed after her stomach audibly churned, "I starved myself of everything but water for two weeks just so I would eat as much as a human. Umm, Natalie," the pigtailed Alexandra pointed, "what's your tiger doing?"

Dabi, the Northern Tiger cub Natalie had only just gotten from Nadia, had clumsily clambered up onto one of the tables and started gorging down what looked like half a platter of trout.

Natalie frantically ran over to recover the tiger before the aggravated servers knocked the cat senseless with metal pans.

Natalie shouted, "Dabi, you stupid cat, get off the table!"

Helen wisecracked, "You see, it's just like Miria says, she leaves for her honeymoon, and then everything goes to straight to hell!"

The wedding party's contingent of claymores began crying from laughter as Natalie picked up the tiger cub amidst both laughter and party-goer aggravation. Dabi however was having none of it, and clamped his small jaws shut around the edge of the silver platter holding the cooked trout. The scene climaxed when Natalie finally tugged the squealing, obstinate tiger cub off the table, spilling a dozen pounds of unspoiled fish all over the grass. Helen, who'd gotten a drink to quench her thirst, spit her drink out in laughter, straight onto an irate Claire.

"Oh shit," Helen muttered.

* * *

"If you don't want a title or a command Claire, then what do you want?"

Renee was asking her, pacing alongside as they walked through Rabona's cobblestone streets. Renee was wearing her usual uniform, her navy blue leather complemented with gold-gilded shoulder plates, gauntlets, and a short white cape.

"I want to look after Victor and Teresa, and those two need Raki and me to both be around to take care of them," she told Renee, who frowned.

"I'm sure Tabitha would not mind giving up command of the Elite Guard if you wanted it-"  
"No Renee," Claire cut Renee off, "I'm not going to take that from Tabitha. Raki and I will remain here in Rabona as protectors of the city."

"We'll pay you both a thousand Francs for your help," Renee promised earnestly.

"I'll take half that, and so will Raki," Claire answered.

"Why half?"

"I don't need the money that badly, and I'm not interested in having 300 servant girls and female field hands like Miria," Claire explained to Renee, who frowned.

They had stopped in the center of a narrow intersection, with night falling fast and only small fireflies and four torches lighting the sparsely populated cobblestone streets around them. Renee flashed an unhappy look at her.

"What? Look, it just seems totally banal to me," Claire pointed out, "Why does Miria need that many servant girls and field hands?"

"Claire," Renee said a little too curtly, "Miria is now an honorary Countess and making 10,000 Francs a year as Lieutenant General, while Cid makes 40,000 Francs a year as a Count. Rather than just let their wealth pile up, Miria and Cid arranged for me to hire the girls and improve their land. They're even building all claymores their own summer residences, including yours I might add. Some of those girls' prior work included being call girls and prostitutes; would you prefer they keeping doing that out of desperation like some of us had to?"

"No, of course not. It just seems absurd to have Miria called Countess Miria Victoire de Beauharnais-Malaga. She should just avoid human politics," Claire replied.

"We're involved in politics whether we want to be or not-"

"Yes, and not for the better," a stern female voice interjected.

They turned to find Galatea in her usual blue and white nun's outfit, long hair covered by a blue habit atop Galatea's head, her arms covered by long white gloves. The residents of the city kept a respectful distance as Renee eyed Galatea diffidently.

"Ah, so they released you at long last," Renee remarked.

"I have Miria to thank for that," Galatea responded with a sniff, "It's ironic, I cannot forgive Miria for overthrowing the church that protects the poor, and yet she can forgive me for attempting to kill her for that offense."

Renee asked, "Yeah, so you finally noticed your hypocrisy then?"

"Hypocrisy? I was merely enforcing the law! It was my duty to protect the rule of the church. Miria may have beaten Rabona's enemies and made Rabona more powerful, but the peace she has will not last," Galatea stated. "Those aristocratic allies of yours care nothing for the poor and the needy, so if Miria's as compassionate as you say, I doubt it'll last forever."

"What I find ironic is you find nothing disconcerting about killing a former comrade in the name of protecting a pacifist church," Claire countered before Renee could.

"I cannot be lectured on morality by the apostate mother of two illegitimate children," Galatea butted back.

"I got married," Claire objected, showing a ring.

"The church does not recognize the marriages of known heretics," Galatea countered, "so as far as we're concerned, you've condemned those poor children to being bastards."

Claire wasn't really aware of what her hands did in the moment that followed, but it ended with Galatea falling backwards onto the cobblestone street unconscious.

"Holy shit Claire," Renee cursed, rushing over Galatea's side and feeling Galatea's pulse with an exposed hand, "Oh thank goodness, she's still alive. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sick and tired of listening to Galatea attacking my morality," Claire explained.

Renee looked around in alarm, "You shouldn't have done that Claire."

The citizens of Rabona nearby looked outraged, with a number throwing small stones and sticks already. Seconds later a massive number of residents began surging forward, grabbing pitchforks, wheat reapers and anything else handy to vent their anger.

"Get the bitch that attacked that defenseless nun," one man shouted.

"Let's get the silver-eyed devils who overthrew our beloved church," a brown-haired woman shrilly shouted, brandishing a hammer, leading the mob forward, screaming.

They jumped out of the mob's reach onto nearby rooftops just in time as the angry crowd converged and then grabbed Galatea and took her into a nearby home.

"My, my, it seems it was wrong of me to say you calmed down all those years ago Claire," a male voice said behind them.

They both turned to look, right hands on their swords to be safe, and found Rubel dressed in black, complete with circular sunglasses, hat, and black uniform. Rubel was standing atop a six story block-house's chimney, smiling, nearly half a block away.

"Rubel you bastard, this time you're not getting away," Claire declared, charging forward.

Rubel remained remarkably still as she approached while jumping over gaps between block-houses and dodging between innumerable chimneys. Claire was just about to attack when Rubel suddenly moved, throwing something towards the ground. A bright white flash blinded her eyes for a moment. Renee ran up just as Claire's sight returned.

"You go look for Rubel, I'll get the military to stop that mob you enraged," Renee remarked, giving her a stern look.

The bells on numerous nearby church bell-towers were soon ringing as Claire raced over rooftops towards a pair of familiar yokis. Claire jumped off a house and onto the cobblestone street as close as possible to them, spreading her legs to cushion the landing. When she got up she found herself staring a large black-spotted cow in the eye.

"Agh," Claire yelped.

A familiar girl with ruddy cheeks, silver eyes, short, cropped blond hair, a mischievous smile and wearing navy-blue leather popped up.

Helen smiled, "Oh hi Claire, what's the matter?"

"Rubel," Claire answered, drawing a knowing look from Helen.

"You alerted the military, right?"

"Of course, but they're partially tied up in containing a mob right now, so I-"

"Ah, so you did thrash Galatea a few minutes ago," Helen remarked in an exasperated tone, "why do you always have to go around stirring up trouble Claire?"

Claire shot back, "You shouldn't lecture me on stirring up trouble, and second, we need to start searching for Rubel right now-"  
"If he's still in the city, we'll find him Claire, if not," Helen shrugged her shoulders, "Miria will understand when she gets back."

"Why is it that you have a cow Helen?"

"Oh, that, well, take a look down below her," Helen gestured.

Below the cow was a familiar, smallish tiger cub, greedily suckling one of the nipples on the cow's udder. Next to the tiger, on the opposite side of the cow to Helen, was Natalie, lovingly stroking the baby tiger's fine orange, white and black-striped fur.

"Hi Claire," Natalie smiled, wearing a ponytail hairstyle very similar to her adoptive mother's.

"Natalie won a game, so she got a cow as a prize. Whatever you do though, don't let her convince you to enter a game of no-limit claymore poker," Helen warned in a low whisper, "it's like she can read your every hand."

A well-dressed woman approached wearing a black dress and a fine black hat. Her face seemed vaguely familiar to Claire as the woman approached, a crowd of male onlookers openly eying the beautiful lady.

The woman asked Helen, "Are you Commander Helen Habsburg?"

"I am-"

The woman cut Helen's answer off with a spectacular back-handed slap across Helen's face, leaving a perfect hand imprint upon the right side of Helen's face.

"You deserved that for what you've done with my husband," the woman scolded Helen.

"You should be slapping Ruud instead of-"

The woman slapped Helen again, this time on the left side of Helen's face, and then left Helen looking a little shocked.

"You got to admit, you deserved that," Natalie commented, "If I were Ruud van Willems' wife, and I knew you were his mistress, I'd do the same thing."

* * *

They dropped off the adorable, still-suckling tiger cub and fat cow inside the small, inner stone courtyard of Miria's old address, and hurried to enter the search. Natalie was moving around at great speed, outrunning both Claire and Helen. The soldiers in the streets below were maintaining order while hundreds of their comrades searched house-to-house for the black hat-wearing spy.

"I see him," Natalie squealed in excitement, tearing off across a whole block of rooftops. Rubel's shadow dropped down out of sight, evidently into the streets below, which were now almost entirely populated with soldiers, as night had fallen. Natalie cut sideways, tracking Rubel's run overhead while Claire tried to close the gap.

Claire turned left, attempting to cut off Rubel's escape point. Below, a black shadow passed in the flickering torchlight of the intersection, with a sudden, blinding white flash appearing as Natalie charged in close behind. Rubel was gone from sight for a moment as he disappeared into the left alleyway at the street's end. While Natalie chased Rubel, Claire in turn took advantage of the moment to cut across the roofs to where the alleyways narrowed. Helen, Alexandra, and Renee closed in from opposite sides as well, running across the Rabonese rooftops.

Claire found Rubel below in the alleyway, running quietly through the streets. She dropped down directly before his route, drawing her sword, and smiled at him. Rubel changed direction but was confronted by Renee and Natalie, running up and almost within sword range. Alexandra, her waist-long braided pigtails swaying, landed to the left while Helen landed to the right side of Rubel. His escape was cut off when Renee and Natalie closed in from behind.

"You're trapped Rubel," Claire said, feeling a tad triumphant. "Here I was thinking this would be a bad day, and you fall into our laps. It's like the perfect ending Rubel. We've beaten back all the villains and finally captured the mastermind. I've been looking forward to this day."

"I can imagine, but I'm afraid you have mistaken my purpose here Claire," Rubel answered, smiling despite having five hostile claymores with swords drawn around him.

"What, you mean to say you aren't trying to get us killed?"

"I'm here on behalf of the Grand Alliance," Rubel smirked.

Four blades simultaneously came to rest alongside Rubel's neck, who had the grace to look a little disconcerted. Natalie alone had stayed back, her arms folded.

Claire snarled, "Tell me Rubel, why we shouldn't just kill you?"

Rubel gave a faint smile, surprising given the fact that he had four different claymores' swords at his neck. "If you kill me Claire, Rabona will be at war with the world's greatest power."

Helen countered, "Nobody went to war because their spy got caught and executed."

"Ah, but you see," Rubel took out a sealed message capsule, "I'm a mere messenger right now."

"Sheath your swords," Claire reluctantly ordered Helen, Renee, and Alexandra.

"Alright messenger," Claire huffed, "why are you here then?"

"I'm here because Miria and the rest of you botched the Organization's overthrow," Rubel explained.

Renee questioned, "What do you mean?"

"When you overthrew the Organization, the war went from a near-victory for our side to a partial disaster when the secret of partial awakening left this island," Rubel continued. "You fools let a loyalist claymore travel to the mainland who had gained knowledge of partial awakening. Do you have any idea of the damage that has done?"

"I don't care," Helen remarked, "and I don't see how our small island is of any concern to your war anymore, Rubel."

"All of you have been blissfully unaware of what has happened these three past years. Our enemies were losing the war three years ago, and then you gave them a key to success," Rubel hissed. "We were on the cusp of victory when a partially-awakened claymore and her comrades turned the tide. Those Alliance of Nations fools were so desperate they rewarded anyone, even a claymore, if they succeeded in command. One of those claymores, a veteran warrior named Katarzyna Romanowa, turned out to be an amazing commander. Eventually she tired of her superiors and seized total control of their military. We are now facing a silver-eyed empress and military commander more brilliant than any seen in the last five centuries due to your flawed overthrow of the Organization!"

None of the claymores could quite believe what they were hearing.

Helen scoffed, "A silver-eyed empress? Oh come on, like that would ever happen!"

"I imagine you'd say the world is flat as well," Rubel shot back. "There is no Alliance of Nations anymore thanks to Empress Katarzyna. In its place is a new, much more deadly superpower on the rise, the Romanow Empire. The Grand Alliance is requesting that the Dominion of Toulouse join in our efforts to stop the empress from attaining world domination."

"We have no desire to be involved in the world war," Renee remarked caustically.

"Our offer," Rubel continued, "is for the Rabonese state to join the Grand Alliance in this struggle. If it refuses our offer or if no answer is given within three years we shall be forced to intervene."

"That 'offer' isn't an offer at all; it's an ultimatum to join the Grand Alliance against this empress within three years or face invasion," Claire objected.

"I didn't say it'd be easy to ignore our entreaties. Ah, looks like he's arrived here," Rubel sighed, and the five of them simultaneously turned to follow Rubel's line of sight.

Walking towards them were a half dozen strangely dressed men in colorful red and black robes, with Galk leading them forward.

One called out to Rubel in a strange, crude tongue, "Meine gute, sind Sie ok Herr Rubel?"

"Ich bin gut wie immer Herr Botschafter," Rubel answered in the same tongue.

Galk stepped forward of the well-dressed men accompanied by a ten-man squad of pikemen, "Ladies, can I ask you to release Herr Rubel?"

Rubel walked out of their circle a moment later, untouched as Natalie eyed him venomously.

"It's a real shame for you Claire," Rubel remarked over his right shoulder to her. "You'll never get another chance like that one."

Claire clenched her fist in frustration as Rubel walked right out of her grasp.

Galk pointed to a tall, well-dressed man with a goatee as Rubel walked to the man's side, "Ladies, this is the Lord Ambassador to Rabona of the Grand Alliance, Duke von Rundstedt."

**The End**


	11. Credits

**Special Thanks To…**

The Claymore community at the Animesuki forum, for without their contributions this quality and length of work would never have been possible. I'd like to thank my primary editors, MiriaJiyuu, Shelter, joe_fh, and Shiek927, whose input was instrumental in shaping the storyline. I'd also like to thank my secondary editors like Weird D, Ryuken, evil_kenshin, FormerAbyssalone, FragrantFlora, and Loivissa. I'd also like to thank Loivissa for putting in the time and skill to draw a great custom cover for this fanfiction. Last but not least, I'd like to thank all my fans, whose enthusiasm kept me going…

* * *

This fanfiction is an over 500-hour labor of love, so I'd love if those reading it were constructive in any critiques you might have. I appreciate you reading and hope you enjoyed the novel. As thanks for you reading this far, I've added a small spoiler on what you will see in "Claymore: New Era"'s sequel, "The Silver-eyed Empress".

**

* * *

****Preview of "The Silver-eyed Empress"**

_Here's a little relevant information to better understand the scene:_

_Takes place on main continent in the Redwood Coast region_

_Individuals concerned: two silver-eyed slayers_

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_

"We should go back," Kasia pleaded to her stubborn stepsister.

"Not a frickin' chance. Not when the rest of them were just sitting there watching it like some sort of gladiator sport," Rima sneered.

Rima had grabbed her and headed into the Forest of Giants. Kasia was regretting her decision to follow along in her exhaustion. The forest was nearly pitch dark, lit only by irregular flashes of lightning from a coming storm and a little moonlight. Even though silver-eyed fighters had excellent night vision, it was still difficult to see in the immense forest. Overhead the trees groaned with the rush of the oncoming wind, a small pattering of rain coming down.

"Shouldn't we stop for the night? There's a storm coming, and we'll get drenched," Kasia pleaded.

"I don't care," Rima replied. "I'm hot on the trail of our Dragonkin. I found his footprint a little ways from here."

Kasia's stomach felt sick; the last thing she wanted right now was to track a lethally dangerous Dragonkin.

"Oh come on," Rima said, exasperated. "I said we were tracking it. Did you actually think I was dumb enough to take on a Smok with just two of us?"

"You were giving me that impression earlier Rima," Kasia pointed out. "I don't understand why Noir snapped like that though. I understand she regarded James as her 'possession', but—"

"It wasn't your fault Kasia," Rima reassured. "You remember poor Celestina having that breakdown right before the final test?"

"Well yeah," Kasia admitted while clambering over an enormous fallen Redwood trunk covered in moss. "She started crying and then attacked our trainer before he could announce the test's start."

"Noir had a breakdown just like Celestina. Liang says she had a nightmarish mission against a Dragonkin ten years ago, and I'm guessing it traumatized her. Her superiors still needed a veteran like her, so they stationed her on the quietest front they could find."

"Yeah, but she attacked me over James, and…" Kasia stopped as she considered Rima's words more carefully. "Oh, you mean—"

"I bet she was nearly pissing herself in fear," Rima interrupted while jumping off the fallen Redwood onto the fern-covered forest floor below. "Then you come along and smooth-talked her prize possession, and she freaked out and thought she was about to lose everything."

"I was NOT smooth-talking James," Kasia huffed a little loudly.

"Quiet," Rima snapped, listening intently.

Kasia walked up alongside Rima and asked, "What is it?"

"I could've sworn I heard a roar just now," Rima whispered.

The storm was finally overhead now, a steady heavy rain coming down, drenching the two of them as Rima listened.

"Rima, if I can't hear anything in this storm, then you most certainly can't," Kasia huffed. "Come on, let's go back. This place is scaring the hell out of me."

Kasia began walking down a clear portion of the forest floor and then abruptly fell into an enormous puddle.

"Goddamit," Kasia cursed.

Rima ran up, looking impressed while standing idly by.

"Ah come on, can't you help me up at least?"

Rima grabbed her by the right arm and hoisted her up, and then pointed back to the puddle. Kasia turned to look, a mere glance being enough to churn her stomach with unease. The puddle was the footprint of something massive with three pointed toes in a dinosaur-like shape. The footprint Kasia estimated to be longer than Rima was tall; it belonged to a monster.

"Oh no," Rima muttered.

"What? Did you hear anything?"

"No," Rima said, looking around in deep concentration to check the surroundings. "But that footprint is pointed straight in the direction of our camp."

Kasia followed frantically behind Rima, running along muddy trails, over fallen logs, dodging falling limbs, the Dragonkin's trail easily lit by the flashing light of lightning overhead. Great crashes of thunder interrupted the rushing sounds of the wind and the heavy patter of the downpour. They followed, finding an occasional enormous footprint or smashed patch of ferns and kept on, frantic. The trail was not deviating in the slightest, even as it wound its way around the enormous Redwoods all around them.

"It's going to find our camp at this rate," Kasia gasped.

"Damn bastard," Rima cursed, "Just my luck; I won't be there when it arrives!"

They kept running down the trail for an hour, finding nothing but more Redwoods and the occasional footprint. It was when Rima found a particularly fresh footprint that they stopped for a breather.

"Hold it," Rima ordered. "I recognize these woods. I think we're only a fifteen minute run from camp. Is it just me, or is the only yoki you feel Havel's?"

Kasia noticed that James' yoki was further ahead, but it was understandably distressed from the wound he'd gotten earlier in the evening. There was just one problem with Havel's yoki other than this; he was headed straight towards them.

Kasia groaned, "Oh no, he's probably trying to find us—"

"Cool it," Rima snapped. "James wouldn't be going anywhere, not when his mistress is hurt. The only reason he's heading straight towards us is he's running for his life."

"No, that thing couldn't have hit camp already, we just left it four hours ago," Kasia cried, feeling a horrible sense of depression creeping up on her.

"It's chasing James," Rima declared, looking at a puddle of water underneath a large fern.

Kasia yelled in alarm, "We've got to go to James!"

It was at this moment that the puddle rippled, not from the rain but from the impact of something hitting the ground far away. Kasia stopped talking and glanced down, as did Rima. It rippled yet again, this time more strongly.

"We're going to ambush this thing right here," Rima declared.

Kasia glanced around but didn't find much room to maneuver, with plenty of downed logs, enormous tree trunks, and muddy trails hindering her mobility.

"No Rima, we've got to get to a more open spot," Kasia pointed out.

"The field operations manual says to ambush them, so that's what we're going to do," Rima snapped. "Now grow some ovaries and shut up about the odds of us winning."

Kasia couldn't remember a time her heart was beating more loudly. She followed Rima up over a fallen tree trunk and behind some ferns and waited. The rain kept pouring while the puddle underneath the nearby fern rippled ever faster. They were still hiding when James' yoki came within a few hundred yards, the sound of vegetation crushing not far behind.

James rounded a nearby tree, gasping, clutching his bloodied right arm, his sword planted on his back. James kept running straight towards them when something enormous rounded the tree with a massive thud.

Kasia whispered in fear to Rima, "That's a Dragonkin?"


End file.
